All The Young Dudes

“Potions.” Remus replied. 
“Right. You friends with her now?” 
“Sort of,” Remus shrugged, “She’s all right. Hates you two.” 
“What?!” They both sat up, looking affronted. 
“But everyone likes us!” Sirius said, “We’re loveable rogues!” 
“She thinks you’re show offs.” 
James gasped, dramatically. 
“How dare she! We’ll have to win her over.” 
“Why bother,” Sirius rolled over, returning to his book, “She’s friends with Snivellus, 
she clearly has no taste.” 
“Did she really say that?” James was asking Remus. He nodded, 
“She said you think you’re god’s gift.” 
“What does that mea-“ 
“It’s a muggle expression,” Remus explained, “Means she thinks you’re full of 
yourself.” 
“She thinks that?” 
“Well,” Remus looked at him, “You sort of are, to be honest.” 
James laughed. Remus sat beside him, grabbing a handful of the Zonko beans himself 
and flinging them into the fire, one by one. He and James shortly made a game of it, 
seeking who could create the biggest explosions by hitting the embers just right. 
“Forgot to say,” James said, once the bag of beans was empty, “Got the owl from dad 
today – he’s spoken to McGonagall and got permission for us to have you over Christmas.” 
“What? Really?!” Remus was fascinated. Why would a grownup who had never met 
him before want to intervene on his behalf? He made a mental note never to underestimate 
the power of James’s will ever again. 
“Yeah, doesn’t think he can get you for the summer, though. Sorry.” 
Remus shook his head, wordlessly. He ought to say thank you, but he hardly knew 
how. 
“Just waiting for you now, mate,” James nudged Sirius with his foot, “Have you sorted 
it out with your mum? Say you’re going to the Pettigrew’s again.” 
“Not bothering,” Sirius replied, still reading, “Just going to go to yours without saying 
anything.” 
Sirius was rarely ever in contact with his parents, but since the Narcissa development 
he had been ignoring their owls altogether. Remus wasn’t sure that silence was the best way 
for Sirius to express his discontent, but as Lily had just reminded him, Remus knew very 
little about families. 
“Mum won’t like it,” James chewed his lip. 
“Don’t tell her, then.” Sirius turned his page. 

135 

James and Remus exchanged a look. They had to do something about the engagement 
soon; the thought of Sirius being in this mood for five more years was a very grim one 

indeed. 

TWENTY-NINE 

Second Year: December Moon 

 
The Hogwarts Express left Hogsmeade station for Christmas on Saturday 16​th 
December that year, meaning that once the full moon had passed, James, Sirius and Remus 
had to find other means of getting to the Potters' family home. 
McGonagall, after lecturing Remus on not letting ​any other​ students in on his secret, 
was sympathetic to the marauder’s wishes, and allowed them to use the floo connection in 
her office ‘just this once’. Remus didn’t mind the lecture so much, but he was terrified of 
using the floo network for the first time. He’d heard all sorts of horror stories from fellow 
students, and it didn’t help that he was usually queasy for a few days after the full moon 
anyway. 
Sirius received a howler every morning after the 16t​ h​ demanding that he come home at 
once, but he simply tossed the scarlet envelopes into the fireplace, where Walpurga Black’s 
screams echoed up into the chimney stacks. James was clearly unnerved by this behaviour, 
but didn’t say anything. Sirius was always up for a fight lately, and it was just better to steer 
clear. Unfortunately, as the full moon drew nearer, Remus also had a very short fuse. The 
two boys bickered over anything and everything, and poor James had to step between the 
pair more than once. 
“Just write back to her for god’s sake.” Remus groaned on the morning of the 20​th​, 
throwing a pillow at Sirius from his bed. He’d been woken early for the third morning in a 
row by a howler, 

“IF YOU THINK YOU CAN ESCAPE YOUR BIRTH RIGHT IN THIS COWARDLY 
FASHION THEN YOU HAVE ANOTHER THING COMING!” It wailed, echoing through 
Gryffindor tower like a banshee. 

“Stay out of it, Lupin,” Sirius flung the pillow back at him. 
“How am I supposed to stay out of it when it’s in our bloody bedroom every 
morning?!” Remus growled, getting up now. 
“I’m ​so​ sorry to inconvenience you!” Sirius retorted, dripping with sarcasm. He looked 
rough, as if he hadn’t slept properly at all, but Remus was in too much of a bad mood to 
care, and his transformation was only hours away. 
“How about not acting like a spoilt brat for five minutes?!” He snapped, “You’re so 
bloody selfish.” 

“I’m not a​ sking​ her to send them! At least I actually get post, at least people care 
enough about me to—” 

Remus threw himself on top of Sirius and began thumping him as hard as he could, 
incandescent with rage.  

136 

“SHUT. UP.” He grunted, landing a decent punch right on Sirius’s left cheek. Sirius, 
though extremely adept at caustic insults, was not much of a fighter. He gasped and tried to 
push Remus away, eventually grabbing for his wand, 

“M​ ordeo!​ ” He hissed, aiming at Remus’s face. At once, Remus let go, tumbling 
backwards onto the bed, clutching his forehead. A horrible stinging sensation radiated 
from the spot Sirius had cursed, 

“You wanker!” He yelled, feeling his face tightening and swelling up. 
“You deserved it!” 
“Sirius!” James had clambered out of bed too late. “You c​ ursed​ him?! You bloody c​ ursed 
him?!” 
Sirius was looking less sure of himself now, 
“He started it!” 
“He didn’t even have his wand on him!” 
Remus had climbed off the bed and was staring at himself in the wardrobe mirror. He 
looked as though he had rolled through a stinging nettle bush backwards. His skin was red 
and shiny, taut and swelling at a worrying rate. 
“Does it hurt?” James asked, tentatively. 
Remus shook his head, though it did – a lot. 
“I’m going to the hospital wing.” He said. “Don’t come with me.” He snapped, seeing 
James pulling on his dressing gown. As he marched out of the room still in his pyjamas, he 
heard James mutter, 
“Attacking someone who’s unarmed is really fucking low, Black.” 

* * * 
Madam Pomfrey healed him quickly using the counter-jinx, but she was very annoyed 
about it. 
“Who did it?” She asked him, “If it was Potter or Black then I want to hear about it – I 
told​ Minerva it was a bad idea to let you go away for Christmas.” 
“Why shouldn’t I go?” Remus asked, scandalised, “Sirius is going!” 
“Mr Black doesn’t have your limitations.” 
“But we’re not going ‘til tomorrow, it’s right ​after​ the full moon, that’s the safest—” 
“I’m thinking of ​your​ health, Remus! You’re very fragile—” 
“I am n​ ot​ fragile!” Remus seethed. 
“Of course not, dear,” she said, not really listening to him. “Now sit there quietly for a 
bit, eh? Have you had breakfast?” 
Madam Pomfrey made him stay in the hospital wing all day in his pyjamas. The 
medi-witch had been working on a new potion that she hoped might make his 
transformation smoother. She let him borrow some of her books, so it wasn’t too bad, but 
he felt like an invalid all the same. His face was still a bit tingly from Sirius’s curse, though 
the swelling had gone down substantially. It might be a good one to use on Snape, he made 
a mental note to remember to ask Sirius exactly how he’d done it. 

137 

At about one o’clock, just after lunch, James and Sirius came to see him. Madam 
Pomfrey gave them a sound telling off, first. 

“Cursing your fellow house mate! Cursing your ​dorm​ mate, for goodness sake! In my 
day you’d have been flogged! And Professor McGonagall has informed me that you know 
about his special circumstances! One might think you’d have more sense!” 

James made copious apologies, and Sirius, who barely flinched at his mother’s obscene 
chastisements anymore, hung his head looking utterly ashamed. Eventually, Remus guessed 
that this must have been enough to satisfy the school nurse, who allowed them over to see 
him. They stood at the end of the bed like mourners, barely meeting his eye. 

“We’re really sorry, Remus,” James started. Remus clicked his tongue, 
“Y​ ou​ never did anything.” 
James kicked Sirius, who looked up too, 
“I​ ’m​ really sorry, Remus.” He had a heavy dark bruise high on his left cheek and his 
eyes looked a little over bright, Remus wondered if Sirius had cried about it. The thought 
made him feel funny. He shook his head, no longer angry, 
“I started it. Sorry I hit you.” 
“Sorry about the howler.” 
“Sorry your mum’s a nightmare.” 
“Sorry you’re a werewolf.” 
They both laughed, and everything was forgiven. 
“Will she let you out now?” James asked, “Few hours still ‘til the moon.” 
Remus shook his head, 
“Nah, she wants to try some new potion.” 
“I didn’t know there was a cure!” 
“There isn’t,” Remus said, quickly, “This is just a… I think it’s to make the 
transformation, y’know… easier.” 
They both looked at him, puzzled. He shifted uncomfortably, 
“Like a painkiller, I think. Muggle ones don’t work.” 
“Does it hurt, then?” Sirius asked, cocking his head. Now that the storm had passed he 
was back to seeing Remus as an interesting specimen. 
“Well, yeah.” Remus frowned. He had assumed they knew a lot more than him, having 
grown up in the wizarding world, so he was surprised that they didn’t know about the pain. 
For a long time, the pain was the only thing he had known. 
To his surprise and delight, James and Sirius elected to stay in the hospital wing with 
Remus for the rest of the afternoon. They played a few riotous games of exploding snap, 
before Madam Pomfrey sternly told them to quiet down, so they switched to gobstones. As 
the evening drew in, they didn’t go down for dinner, but ate the same hospital food as he 
did. 
This was no great thing for them – James and Sirius treated it as any other afternoon; 
the hospital bed was just an extension of their dorm. For Remus it was everything – it was 

138 

time that would otherwise be spent anxious and alone. It was the closest thing to family he 
could imagine. 

McGonagall came and chased them out, eventually, ready to lead Remus to the shack. 
He went peacefully, with a soft smile on his lips and laughter still echoing in his ears. 
Madam Pomfrey’s painkilling potion had no effect – but Remus found the transformation 
slightly more tolerable all the same. 

* * * 
James and Sirius arrived first thing the next morning. Remus was dozing in his bed, 
having been brought back into the castle at dawn. His face hurt, and he knew it wasn’t from 
the curse anymore. Madam Pomfrey had left a hand mirror on his bedside table, glass 
down, but he had been too tired to look yet. He was woken by the sharp gasp of breath 
which came from either James or Sirius, he wasn’t sure who. When he opened his eyes they 
had both rearranged their expressions into stoic cheer. 

“Alright, mate?” James said, with a half-smile, as you might address a child. 
“Alright.” Remus croaked, hauling himself up. It must be bad. He lifted the heavy 
mirror and turned it towards his face. Ah. 
The cut looked half-healed already, thanks to Pomfrey’s ministrations, but it was still 
a shock. The scab was hard and black, edged with tender red skin. It stretched from the 
inner corner of one eye, up over the bridge of his nose diagonally down towards the centre 
of his opposite cheek. He couldn’t remember much, but it looked as though he’d almost 
split his face wide open. 
“My beautiful face,” he said, weakly, attempting sarcasm, but feeling dreadful. Now 
everyone would know. So far he’d been able to hide the worst of his scars under his robes, 
but he knew now that it had only been a matter of time before his luck ran out in that 
regard. 

“It’s not that bad,” James said, quickly, “It’ll heal really fast, I bet…” 
“How did—” Sirius began, but was interrupted by Madam Pomfrey who came 
storming over, 
“You two back again!” They stepped back, sharply, as if frightened of her, showing 
deference they never showed for McGonagall. The nurse pulled the curtain around Remus’s 
bed, closing it in their faces. “Ah, you’ve had a look, have you?” She addressed Remus now, 
in a much softer tone, “I know it looks bad, but it’ll pale just like the others. Should be 
barely noticeable by the new year.” 
Remus somehow didn’t believe her – even his most faded scars were still very 
noticeable. She took a closer look, then smoothed a clear ointment over the cut, 
“Take this with you,” she instructed, handing him the jar, “Apply every morning and 
evening. Does it hurt, still?” 

He shook his head. She clucked her tongue sceptically, “Well, even so. It might itch a 
bit as it heals. Perhaps we could try trimming your nails down next month? Though I 
suppose the claws come in anyway.” She sighed, sounding frustrated, “Your face must still 
have been irritated even after we got the swelling down.” 

139 

“It’s fine,” Remus shrugged her off. He was keenly aware of his friends on the other 
side of the curtain, and wanted her to go away. “Can I go now? I feel ok.” 

“Wouldn’t you rather get a bit more sleep?” 
“No.” He shook his head vehemently, “I’m hungry – I want to go down for breakfast.” 
He knew that would work; she was always on at him to eat more. 
“Well… fine. Get dressed and off you pop.” 
Sirius was very quiet during breakfast, leaving James and Remus to maintain the 
conversation – something neither of them had much practice at by themselves. Once fed, 
they went upstairs to pack because Sirius and Remus had left it to the last minute. James, 
frustrated by their lack of foresight, marched to McGonagall’s office to see if everything 
was ready for their journey, leaving them to it. 
Remus packed a few things – he hadn’t got the others any presents, and he’d made 
them all promise not to get him anything either. It wasn’t fair. Matron had sent ahead a 
small package, so there was that. He threw in some clothes – the others probably wore 
robes at home, but the only robes Remus owned were his school uniform (and he wasn’t 
very sure he actually o​ wned​ that, or whether it was just on loan), so he just shoved in his 
muggle clothes. 
Packed, Remus turned to find Sirius standing directly behind him, looking even worse 
than he had the day before. 
“What’s up?” Remus asked, startled. 
“It’s my fault.” Sirius replied, his voice strangely flat, “I heard Pomfrey say so.” 
“Eh?” 
“Your face… I cursed it, then when you turned you scratched it…” 
“Oh.” Remus raised his fingers to his face, self-consciously. Sirius looked away. “It’s 
not really your fault,” Remus said, awkwardly, “I mean, I scratch everywhere else, too. 
Bound to happen eventually.” 
“Why do you do it?” 
Sirius had asked that once before, when looking at his old scars. This time Remus 
could tell that he really understood what he was asking. But Remus still didn’t have an 
answer. 
“I dunno. I don’t remember.” 
“You don’t remember anything at all?” 
“Not really. I know I’m always hungry – like I’ve been starving all my life. And angry.” 
“About what?” 
Remus shook his head, 
“Just angry.” 
“I’m so sorry, Remus.” Sirius looked sad again. Remus couldn’t bear it, 
“Oh, shut up.” He said, half joking, “You wouldn’t think twice about cursing James or 
Peter.” 
“Yeah, but you’re…” 

140 

“Don’t say it.” He’d been afraid this might happen, “​Please​ don’t treat me like I’m sick, 
or different, or whatever. It’s one night a month. If I punch you, you’re allowed to curse me, 
ok?” 

Sirius looked like he wanted to laugh, 

“Are you saying you’re planning to punch me again?” 

Remus threw a sock at him, 

“If you don’t sort out those bastard howlers, maybe.” 

* * * 
Travelling by floo powder was nothing compared to feeling your own spine elongate 
every month, and Remus wasn’t sure what all the fuss had been about. He was the second to 
step out of the fireplace into the Potter’s lounge, after James. Brushing soot from his 
shoulders he quickly hopped off the hearth rug to make room for Sirius, and watched as 
James was pulled into a hearty embrace by both of his parents. 
Mr and Mrs Potter were quite a bit older than Remus had imagined, but both had 
kind, merry faces that shared familiar features with their son. Mr Potter’s hair was white as 
snow, but stuck up at every angle exactly like James’s. Mrs Potter had his winning smile 
and warm hazel eyes. They both hugged Sirius too, while Remus shrank back, feeling 
horribly out of place. 
Finally, Mrs Potter turned her sunny smile on him. Thankfully she did not make to 
hug him too, perhaps sensing that he was uncomfortable. She simply nodded at him gently, 
“Hello, Remus, we’ve heard ever so much about you, I’m so glad you’re spending 
Christmas with us.” 
Remus smiled back shyly, but couldn’t bring himself to speak. It didn’t matter; James 
and Sirius were chattering nineteen to the dozen with Mr Potter, who looked like a 
schoolboy himself, eyes twinkling with fun and mischief. 
The sitting room – Remus supposed it was a sitting room, as it had three sofas in it – 
was the biggest he’d ever been in, with wide, tall windows letting in soft winter sunlight 
that pooled onto the polished hardwood floors. A gigantic Christmas tree stood in one 
corner, glimmering with silver dust and surrounded by a mountain of brightly wrapped 
presents. 
Paper chains and streamers were draped across the ceiling and along the picture rails, 
and even the magical portraits had decorated their frames with fairy lights. As they were 
led through the house (“For goodness sakes’, Fleamont, let the boys put their things away 
before you start planning whatever it is I know you’re planning,”) he found that every room, 
even the hallways were decorated with lights, tinsel and hundreds and hundreds of festive 
cards. The Potter’s must be very popular wizards indeed. They were certainly wealthy – the 
sweeping mahogany staircase continued up three more flights. 

James’s bedroom was big enough for all three of them – bigger than their dorm room 
at Hogwarts, with a king sized four poster bed, but Remus was surprised to find that there 
were four equally large bedrooms which were unoccupied. Sirius had already claimed the 
one next to James, so Remus put his bag in the third room, wondering what it would be like 
to sleep alone for the first time. 

141 

“Come on then, lads!” Mr Potter yelled up the stairs in a booming voice, “It’s been 
snowing all afternoon and I’ve got the toboggans ready!” 

THIRTY 

Second Year: Christmas with the Potters 

 
Remus had thought that nothing could be much better than Christmas at Hogwarts, 
which was (quite literally) magical. Christmas at the Potter’s, however, was an entirely 
different experience that seemed only to get better.   

First there was tobogganing down the snowy slopes in the back garden – though at 
over five hundred acres, no one could really call it a garden. Peter, who lived further down 
in the main village, came out to join them as soon as he heard they had arrived, and they 
had an extremely noisy and violent afternoon careering down the hillsides and playing 
complex wargames with snowball ammunition. Mr Potter even joined in; sprightly for his 
age and with the considerable advantage of being able to use magic.   

Mrs Potter called them all in for lunch and made them all change out of their freezing 
wet clothes. They sat by the fireplace, warm and dry eating hot toasted teacakes smeared 
with rich yellow butter. In the afternoon they wanted to go out again, but Mr Potter had 
gone to lie down and Mrs Potter didn’t want them to go out so close to nightfall. Instead 
they helped her decorate an enormous Christmas cake with white royal icing and tiny 
magical figurines, then to wrap presents for the neighbours and their house elves,  

“We never got anything for the house elf,” Sirius said matter-of-factly, his fingers 
hopelessly bound up in some spell-o-tape, “Mind you, Kreacher’s a moody git; I doubt he 
wants anything.”  

“They’ll take gifts as long as it’s something edible, I find,” Mrs Potter replied, smiling, 
“No clothes, of course, that only upsets them.”  

“Tell mum what your lot does to house elves, Sirius,” James grinned, binding his 
friend’s hands up even more. Sirius laughed, lightly,  

“Mounts their heads.” He said, “Once they’re dead. At least, I t​ hink​ we wait until 
they’re dead… Kreacher’s the only house elf I remember.”  

“Goodness,” said Mrs Potter, “I had rather thought that tradition had died out.”  
“Not with the Blacks,” Sirius sighed. Remus could tell that he was thinking about the 
betrothal again.  

“You’re making a lovely job of that, Remus,” Mrs Potter observed, glancing over at the 
book he was wrapping for Mrs Pettigrew. “Unlike ​some​ naughty boys I could mention…” 
she turned a stern gaze upon her son and his best friend, now attempting to tape their 
hands to the table top.   

Remus smiled at her, politely, feeling the fresh cut on his face pull at his skin. He still 
hadn’t really said anything to either of James’s parents yet. He’d always been told to be seen 
and not heard around older people – and he had never been to a friend’s house before. 
Sirius, by contrast, was completely at ease, Remus had never seen him happier. He doted on 
Mrs Potter as if she was his own mother – if he’d ​liked​ his own mother, of course.   

142 

Remus yawned, more widely than he meant to, trying to hide behind his hands, 
ducking his head embarrassed. He had only slept a few hours that morning following the 
moon, and an afternoon of snowball manoeuvres had left him exhausted.   

“You’d better go up to bed, dear,” Mrs Potter said, ignoring the fact that it was only 
three o’clock in the afternoon. Remus wondered if James had told his parents about him – 
they must know, McGonagall might not have let him come otherwise.   

“Oh, you’re all right, aren’t you, Lupin?” Sirius cajoled, “Peter’s coming back in a bit, 
we can go out again.”  

Remus blinked at him, then looked at James for help.  
“Leave him alone, Sirius,” Mrs Potter chided, “The poor boy’s dead on his feet. Come 
on, dear, off you go.”   
Gratefully, Remus got up from the kitchen table and made his way up to bed. As he 
changed into his night things, he couldn’t help but steal another glance at himself in the 
mirror, now that he was properly alone. Perhaps it was having been out in the cold, but the 
scar looked worse than it had that morning, the contrast harsher with his pale skin. Would 
his face always surprise him, now? Would be always catch a glimpse of himself in some 
mirror or shining surface and jump? Would other people be afraid of him?  
There was a soft tap at the door, just as Remus was about to put on the ointment 
Madam Pomfrey had given him. It was Sirius, Remus caught his scent before he even 
knocked.   

“Alright?” The dark haired boy crept inside, speaking quietly. He held a pewter goblet 
in his hand. "James's mum sent you this. It’s a healing draught, I think.”  

“Oh, thanks.” Remus nodded tiredly. Sirius set it down on the bedside table.  

“You ok?”  

“Fine. Just tired, mate.”  

“Were we too… y’know, rough or something?”  
“No!” Remus said, very firmly, probably sounding angrier than he meant to. “It’s 
nothing to do with you two, it’s just the fact that I was up all night howling at the bloody 
moon and trying to rip my own face off. I’m tired.”  

Remus had to sit down, the effort of the outburst made him dizzy.   

“Sorry.” Sirius said, even more quietly. It was the second time he’d apologised that 
day, and Remus hated the sound of it. “I’ll leave you.” He closed the door.  

Remus couldn’t bring himself to start worrying about hurting Sirius’s feelings. He 
smeared on some of the ointment, then sniffed the goblet Mrs Potter had sent. He 
recognised it as something he’d had before at Hogwarts, which would trigger instant sleep. 
Getting into bed, he drained it quickly, and closed his eyes.  

* * *  
The remaining days before Christmas passed quickly, and Remus was able to 
experience real family life for the first time. Mr and Mrs Potter had to be the perfect 
parents – they were kind and sure, always smiling and full of fun. Remus hadn’t known that 
adults could be that way. He hadn’t known that people could grow up like that. It was 

143 

clearer than ever why James was the way he was – as brimming with love and blind 
confidence as Remus was brimming with rage. It was obvious, too, why Sirius was so drawn 
to the family. He had an unquenchable thirst for love, and the Potters had an endless 
supply.  

The four boys tramped all over the surrounding countryside in the snow, bundled up 
in their warm Gryffindor scarves, hats and gloves. In the evenings they played card games, 
helped Mrs Potter prepare dinner and listened to Mr Potter telling ghost stories around the 
fireplace. They made mince pies and paper chains, they built snow-wizards and igloos, and 
they slept so soundly in their beds at night that not even a howler could have woken them.  

Unfortunately, it was not to last. While the Black's had stopped sending howlers, they 
had not forgotten their wayward son and tried a new tact on Christmas eve, with 
devastating consequences for the marauders.   

They were drinking warm butterbeer and sitting on the hearth rug. James and Sirius 
were playing gobstones, very loudly, and Mr Potter was teaching Remus to play chess. The 
old man had been horrified that Remus didn't know how, and Remus was surprised to find 
himself actually quite enjoying the game. The whole room felt warm and safe, heavy 
curtains drawn against the cold and dark, tree lights twinkling softly and the fire popping 
and crackling beside them. The clock had just struck nine, and Mrs Potter was keen to send 
them all to bed, when there was a loud *CRACK* just outside the window.  

Mr and Mrs Potter shared a quick glance, and Remus's ears pricked like a dog. The 
smell of spent magic permeated the air, like burnt toast. Something dark and unsavoury. 
There was a firm, hollow knock at the door.   

"Weren't expecting anyone, were we Effie?" Mr Potter frowned slightly at his wife. 
She shook her heard, and they both listened.  

The Potter's house elf, Gully, went scampering towards the front door to answer it. 
There were stilted voices in the hall, and Gully came hurrying in.  

"Oh, Mr Potter, Mr Potter, she's come for young master Black, she's telling me she's 
his mother! I told them to wait there for you." The elf was wringing his hands anxiously, 
clearly very confused by this turn of events.   

Sirius and James looked at each other. Sirius's face was white – he looked like he 
might be sick.  

"She wouldn't..." He whispered.  
Mr Potter was already up and out of the door. There were raised voices in the hallway 
now – Remus recognised Mrs Black's sharp tone from her horrid letters.   
"Sirius," Mrs Potter said, gently, "Did your parents give you permission to visit us, 
dear?" He looked at the floor. She clucked her tongue. "Oh, sweetheart." She said, sounding 
very sad.  
"Don't make him leave, mum!" James stood up, "He hates them!"  
"They're his parents, James."  
"Sirius!" Mr Potter called from the hall.   

144 

Sirius got up, James did too. Remus didn't want to, he wanted to stay by the fire where 
they'd all been so happy just moments beforehand. But Mrs Potter had stood up too, and 
this was one of those times the marauders had to present a united front, no matter how 
frightening Sirius's mother was.  

They all filed out into the hall. Remus had seen Mrs Black once before, the first time 
he'd boarded the Hogwarts Express. Back then he had simply thought she looked very 
severe, and that she looked like Sirius. She still looked severe – her hair was slicked back 
and pulled up in a high bun which coiled like a serpent at the crown of her head, fixed with 
an emerald pin. Her eyes were dark, not as blue as Sirius's, but she had that Black family 
bone structure and superior look. She was shorter than Mr Potter, but still managed to gaze 
at him as though he was filth on her boot. Her look sharpened as she saw James and Remus 
appear.   

"Sirius." She said, coldly, narrowing her eyes at her eldest son. "You will come with me 
at once. Kreacher!" She snapped her fingers and an old, wizened looking house elf emerged 
from behind her robes. "Go upstairs and fetch master Black's things." The house elf bowed 
deeply, kissing the silver capped toes of Mrs Black's pointed boots, and scurrying upstairs.  

"Good evening, Walpurga," Mrs Potter said, pleasantly, as if there was no tension at 
all, "May I offer you a drink? We were just about to crack out the mince pies, weren't we, 
boys?"  

Mrs Black ignored her, looking straight at Sirius,  

"Put on your cloak. We're leaving now."  

"But mother, I--"  

"Don't you dare speak to me." She hissed, eyes flashing.   
Remus wanted to run away; she was worse than Matron one hundred times over. She 
was worse than Bellatrix and Snape and every nasty person he had ever met. The thought of 
letting Sirius go with her made his insides twist. Mr and Mrs Potter seemed to be suffering 
from the same crisis,  

"Walpurga, why not let him stay?" Mrs Potter tried, "I know he's been a bit naughty, 
but there's no harm done. We can have him for lunch and send him back before dinner 
tomorrow. They've all been having such a nice time together."  

Mrs Black let out a short, crackling laugh, as if the her son's enjoyment was the least 
of her concerns. She eyed James, her gaze raking over his mess of hair, then Remus, staring 
pointedly at his new scar. Remus looked at his feet, terrified. She'd know. She'd know 
straight away.  

Kreacher came scuttling back down the stairs, followed by a very affronted looking 
Gully. Sirius's trunk hovered behind them both, apparently packed and ready to go. 
Walpurga turned,  

"Come along, Sirius."  
"No." He said, quietly, but very firmly. Remus wanted to tell him to s​ hut up​, couldn't he 
see how much trouble he was in?! But Sirius was clenching his fists, looking at his mother, 
"I want to stay here, with the Potters. You can't make me--"  

145 

"​SILENCIO!​ " Walpurga spun around, jabbing her wand at Sirius. He stopped speaking 
at once – though not voluntarily. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, and nothing 
came out. She had stolen his voice.   

"Walpurga, really!" Mr Potter gasped, as Mrs Potter let out a small shriek and knelt 
beside Sirius, wrapping her arms around him protectively. "He's just a boy!"  

"He is my son." Walpurga purred, looking daggers at Mrs Potter, "And he is heir to 
the finest house in Britain. He will learn his place. Come, Sirius."  

Sirius looked completely defeated, his mouth a straight line of resignation. He hugged 
Mrs Potter back, then stepped away from her. He gave James and Remus a small wave, 
before following his mother out of the door.  

The four of them stood in silence after the front door slammed. Remus wondered if 
James felt as ashamed as he did – ought they to have stood up for their friend in some way? 
What would happen to him now? Mr Potter looked furious.  

"Using a silencing charm on her own son! On an underage wizard! It's morally 
reprehensible!"  

"She does worse than that." James said, quietly. Remus nodded, in agreement, feeling 
as though someone had taken his own power of speech.   

"We'll have to make the house unplottable, Fleamont," Mrs Potter said, suddenly, 
"Make it so we can't be found – you said you were considering it, after the last election. I 
don't want that dreadful woman in my house ever again."  

Mr Potter nodded, darkly.   
"I'll look into it in the new year. Alastor Moody owes me a favour."  
"Bedtime, boys." Mrs Potter said, her voice trembling. "Try not to worry too much." 
She hugged James fiercely, kissing him on each cheek. Remus tried to dodge her, but she 
grabbed him too, pulling him into a tight embrace. She smelled like orange and clove.   

* * *  
"Psst. Remus."  
Remus had just finished brushing his teeth and was making his way down the hall to 
his room, when James poked his head out and ushered him into his own bedroom. They 
knelt on the bed together. James withdrew a note from his pyjama pocket, "Regulus sent 
this,"   
"What does it say?" Remus asked quickly, before James could give it to him to read.  
"Oh, um, it says 'Sirius is home, do not try to contact him.'"  
"That's all?"  
"That's all." James nodded, grimly.  
"Nice of Regulus," Remus remarked, looking down at the note which was obviously 
very hastily scribbled down. "Thought they hated each other."  
"Yeah, well they're still brothers, aren't they?" James replied, shrugging, "Family ties 
and all that."  
"Do you think he'll be ok?"  

146 

"I don't know." James chewed his lip. "I never got to give him his present. He said he 
never gets anything christmassy from his lot, just family heirlooms and stuff."  

"I had a go at him the other day." Remus sighed, dolefully, "About... y'know, my furry 
little problem."  

James chuckled,  
"Don't worry about it. You two are always having a go at each other about ​something​. 
Just your personalities."  

"Oh. D'you think?" Remus was a bit miffed by that observation – Sirius snapped at 
Peter far more often, surely. James grinned,  

"I told you, don't worry about it. Black loves an argument."  

Christmas morning was a subdued affair, though the Potters were keen to make it 
cheerful, if only for Remus. He was embarrassed to find a bulging stocking at the foot of his 
bed when he woke up, and resolved to correct this next year somehow.  

There were the customary socks and underpants from Matron, plus a tin of 
shortbread. Some chocolate frogs from Peter and a big book of advanced charms from 
Sirius. James had bought him a book too – C​ onjurers Cartography: A guide to magical 
mapmaking.​ Mr and Mrs Potter, however, had gone above and beyond. Under the tree he 
found more sweets, practical jokes, a beautiful set of quills – which he tried to give back 
("we got the same for James and Sirius, dear, don't be silly,"), and a brand new pair of 
pyjamas.   

The Potters' extended family began arriving for Christmas Lunch at about midday, as 
well as the Pettigrews, who brought with them Peter's elder sister, Philomena, and her 
muggle boyfriend she'd brought back from University. Remus was introduced to everyone 
as a friend of James', and generally ignored, except for by one tiny and ancient wizard who 
was already red nosed and merry from all of the drinks Gully was passing around,  

"Lupin, you say? Not ​Lyall​ Lupin's boy?"  
Remus gaped, unable to answer. He'd only heard his father's name spoken once or 
twice.   

"Um... yes." He said, finally, blushing hard.   
"Is he here?!" The wizard grinned, looking around, "Excellent fellow, haven't seen him 
in years."  

"Er... he's dead." Remus replied, with an apologetic shrug.  
"Damn shame!" The wizard cried, spilling some of his drink, "Fine dueller; taught me 
everything I know about boggarts. Temper did tend to get him into trouble though – I told 
him not to mess about with that Greyback chap – bloody werewolves, ought to exterminate 
the lot of them!"  

Remus blinked. James looked at him, curiously. Fortunately, Mr Potter intervened,  

"Darius? Have another drink, old man, leave the young people to their games, eh?"  
Remus swallowed hard and returned to the gobstones tournament as if nothing had 
happened. 

 

147 

THIRTY-ONE 

Second Year: Sirius Returns 

 
Saturday 6t​ h​ January 1973 

Peter, James and Remus arrived promptly at King’s Cross to return to Hogwarts on the 
Saturday before term began. They all peered about looking for their fourth, but Sirius was 
not there – and nor was Regulus. As the train pulled out of the platform, James went in 
search of someone to ask. He returned with his hands over his nose, where a large boil was 
beginning to form. 

“Narcissa said it’s none of my business.” He explained, sitting down heavily. 
“Maybe they’re using the floo network,” Peter guessed, “Maybe his mum didn’t trust 
him to get on the train with us.” 
“Maybe.” James stared out of the window, rubbing his sore nose. Remus had never 
seen him so unhappy. James had been missing Sirius more than any of them, and had been 
so excited at the prospect of seeing him once they got to London. Remus and Peter tried 
their hardest to cheer him up, but it was as if he was missing his right arm. 
Before leaving, Mr and Mrs Potter said that they would see what they could do about 
having Remus to stay with them over the summer, too, and he thanked them profusely. It 
wasn’t likely, though, so he didn’t get his hopes up. Instead he just tried to be grateful that 
he was returning to school for a few more months with his friends. Most of them, anyway. 
Sirius was nowhere to be found at dinner that evening, nor did he appear by the time 
they were getting ready for bed. James and Remus had brought his Christmas presents back 
for him, and piled them on top of his pillow, still wrapped in bright shiny paper and ribbon. 
Three of the packages were from Andromeda, and Remus knew they were albums. Sirius 
had asked for anything and everything by David Bowie. 

 
Sunday 7t​ h​ January 1973 

On Sunday morning, the bed was still empty, and the three marauders sat around 
trying to distract themselves with homework. Remus had finished his and took the 
opportunity to get started on his Christmas books, now that he could invoke his reading 
spell once more. James took to pacing the room, went to ask McGonagall where Sirius was 
(she didn’t know) and even tried Narcissa a second time (she cursed him again). Finally, he 
went outside to do a few laps of the quidditch pitch on his broom. 

Peter went too, with a box of biscuits to nibble on while he watched. Remus stayed 
indoors where it was warm; reading, or at least pretending to. Now that he was finally 
alone, he began thinking about the things Mr Potter’s friend Darius had said about his 
father, turning the new information over in his mind like a coin. His father was good at 
duelling – he’d heard that before. Lyall Lupin had obviously had a temper too – this was a 
new piece of intelligence, and an odd thing to know, after so long not really knowing 
anything. For the first time, Remus considered that his bouts of rage might not have 
anything to do with his condition. And who was Greyback? The name alone made him feel 

148 

hot and uncomfortable. He wished more than anything that James and Peter hadn’t been 
there to hear it all. 

Remus sat by the window in Gryffindor tower, his book slack in his lap, staring into 
space and trying to make sense of a puzzle he didn’t have all the pieces to. Occasionally he 
glanced out of the window to catch sight of James acting even more recklessly than usual. 

“What the hell is he playing at?!” A voice squeaked over Remus’s shoulder. It was Lily 
Evans. She was sipping a mug of tea, staring at James on his broom. 

“Nervous energy,” Remus shrugged, not turning back to look at her. The light from 
the window would cast his face into sharp relief, and his scar – while no longer red and 
angry – was still very noticeable. 

“James Potter, nervous?!” Lily scoffed, “I had no idea he was capable of such complex 
emotions.” 

“Oi,” Remus objected, still looking out of the window, “It’s not been a great Christmas 
for him, ok?” 

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry, I know he’s your friend.” She always said that right after she 
insulted one of the marauders. “How was your Christmas?” 

“Great, thanks. You?” 

“Brilliant,” he could hear the grin in her voice, “Mum and Dad finally let me get an 
owl.” 

“Oh, t’riffic.” 

“What about you?” 

“Got some books.” 

“From your… um, from the people you live with?” 

He finally looked at her, even more irritated. Why wouldn’t she just get lost? 

“No, from my friends.” 
“Oh... of course, yeah.” Lily was consciously looking away, at the space just to the left 
of Remus’s head. He sighed, heavily, everyone was going to see it anyway. At least Lily was 
polite enough not to ask any rude questions. 
Remus went upstairs in the end, drew his bed curtains together and settled into 
Conjurer’s Cartography​. The others eventually came up for bed too, speaking quietly, 
thinking he was asleep. The exercise had done nothing to calm James down, Remus could 
hear his rapid heartbeat and smell the cloying scent of anxiety. 

It was perhaps an hour after lights out that the door creaked open again. 
Sirius had returned – there was no mistaking his familiar footfall. Remus felt a wave of 
relief wash over him, a knot in his stomach that he hadn’t realised was there beginning to 
uncoil. James and Peter slept on as Sirius tried to keep his movements quiet, creeping into 
the room and over to his bed, quickly climbing in and drawing the curtains. Remus lay still, 
listening to Sirius lying still too. There was something different in his breathing. Eventually 
curiosity got the better of him and he got out of bed. 
Not wanting to intrude, Remus trod as close to Sirius’s curtains as he dared and 
whispered, 

149 

“Sirius?” 

“James?” He replied, eagerly, 

“Remus.” 
“Oh…” there was a moment’s awkward silence. “…I just want to sleep, Lupin. Speak 
tomorrow, ok?” 
“Ok.” Remus padded back to his own bed and closed his eyes, feeling no less 
concerned. 

* * * 
Monday 8​th​ January 1973 

The next morning Sirius had already left before any of them woke up. His presents, 
still unopened, had been pushed to the end of the bed. His trunk had arrived at some point, 
and his broom was back on its shelf. James saved him a seat at breakfast, but he never 
turned up, and they didn’t see him at all until their first lesson. 

“He wouldn’t miss McGonagall,” James said confidently, as they pressed towards the 
classroom, “He loves Transfiguration.” 

When they entered the room, however, they were all in for a shock. There was another 
boy sitting in Sirius’s seat. He was smallish and hunched over, with pale, pointed features 
and big blue eyes. His hair was shorn close to his scalp in the same way that Matron shaved 
Remus’s head every summer. It looked darker than Remus’s, though. 

“Who’s that?!” Peter whispered, a little bit too loudly. The boy turned to look at them. 

“Sirius!” James gaped. 
Sirius coloured slightly, and looked straight ahead as if he hadn’t seen them at all. 
James slid into the seat beside him, 

“What happened? Where have you been? What did she do to you?!” 

Sirius shook his head, 

“Later,” he murmured. 
The classroom had filled up now, and everyone seemed to be whispering behind their 
backs. Remus couldn’t blame them – he couldn’t strop staring either. It wasn’t just the lack 
of hair – although that was incredibly disconcerting; Sirius just wasn’t ​Sirius​ without his 
hair – he also had dark shadows under his eyes, and there was not a trace of humour on his 
lips. 
“All right, settle down, please!” McGonagall entered the room. She glanced at Sirius. 
Her eyes widened for a millisecond as she recognised him, but she said nothing, addressing 
the class; “Your end of year exams begin in three months, let’s see who’s been paying 
attention…” 
McGonagall didn’t call on Sirius once to answer a question, though it was usually the 
only way she could get him to pay attention. Nor did she bother any of the other marauders, 
who spent the entire lesson shooting worried looks at their friend. When Transfiguration 
ended, they packed up their things and followed Sirius hurriedly out of the door, 

“What happened?!” James asked, trying to keep up with Black’s brisk clip. 

“I said later,” Sirius returned, “Wait until break, ok?” 

150 

“But you – what did she…?” 
“I’m fine.” 
The next lesson, History of Magic, was agony. James was beside himself and even 
resorted to passing notes to Sirius – who steadfastly ignored them. He sat stiffly, back 
straight, eyes on the board. For the first time in two years, Remus saw him actually reading 
his history text in class. Something was very wrong indeed. 
They couldn’t get out of History fast enough – James grabbed Sirius’s arm and 
practically marched him outside to the nearest courtyard, where they chased away a group 
of first year girls who were doing handstands against a wall, skirts tucked into their 
knickers. It was icy cold out, though no snow had fallen yet, the sky was paper white and a 
storm was on its way. Once the coast was clear, James stared Sirius down, eyes full of 
feeling, deep creases in his brow. 
“What ​happened?​ !” 
Sirius sighed heavily. 
“What’s it look like?” He gestured at his head. Remus had the peculiar feeling that 
neither of them cared he and Peter were there – that this was between the two of them, like 
their nightly chats. 
“Your mum did that?” 
“Well I didn’t do it myself, did I?!” He snapped, angrily. James didn’t react, just kept 
looking at his friend. That was James’s secret, Remus realised, suddenly, he was always 
patient and he never took anything personally. How else could you be best friends with 
someone like Sirius Black? Sirius was now rooting in his bag and pulled out his red 
Gryffindor hat, which had so far never been worn. He crammed it over his shorn head, 
“Bloody freezing.” He muttered, “Dunno how you cope, Lupin.” 
Remus shrugged and smiled, pleased to be acknowledged. Sirius leaned heavily against 
the wall, looking at his feet. 
“They let me come back,” he said, quietly, “They almost didn’t – one wrong move and 
they’ve promised to send me to Durmstrang.” 
James and Peter gasped, Remus made a mental note to ask about it later. Sirius 
continued, 
“Didn’t get my voice back until Christmas dinner. Had to play my part for that; 
everyone was there, all of the sacred twenty-eight – except the Weasley’s, obviously. Lucius 
Malfoy really bloody hates me now, but he had to be really nice to me and Reg – slimy 
creep. Got away with wearing my Gryffindor tie until mum noticed and vanished it. Then 
I… I um… I may have set off a few dung bombs during the fourth course…” 
Peter, Remus and James all winced, collectively. 
“That’s why… the hair…?” James asked again tentatively. Sirius looked up, 
“She said seeing as the usual punishments weren’t having any effect she’d try 
something different… I tried to get Pomfrey to grow it back for me, but the old bitch said 
she wasn’t a beautician. Thought I’d done it myself by accident or something.” 

151 

“You could tell her—“ Remus started, feeling the need to defend the nurse. Sirius 
shook his head, 

“Not worth it.” 
“Regulus?” James asked, suddenly, “Is he back too? He sent us a note to let us know 
you got home, but we never heard anything else.” 
Sirius nodded, 
“Yeah, he’s back. Kept h​ is​ hair, obviously. Dad sorted out a portkey into Hogsmeade. 
He’s still… y’know, a bit of a tosser, but… he didn’t choose to be a Black either. He just plays 
the game better than I do.” He looked past them all, his eyes wide and desperate. Remus felt 
an awful ache in his chest. “I just wish…” Sirius said. But nothing more. The bell rang, and 
they had to get back to their lessons. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

152 

THIRTY-TWO 

Second Year: Gryffindor vs. Slytherin 

 
Everyone in the school knew about Sirius’s dramatic new look by the end of their first 
day back. James and Peter took to walking either side of him through the corridors, like 
body guards, shooting glares at anyone who dared snigger or whisper as they passed. 
“It doesn’t look that bad,” James assured him, watching Sirius stare at himself in the 
mirror. They were hiding in the empty second floor girls’ loo’s during lunch to avoid any 
more staring. 
James was lying, Remus thought to himself, and Sirius probably knew it. It looked 
really​ bad – he seemed so much smaller. Without the dark hair framing Sirius’s face his eyes 
appeared larger than ever, making him look young and anxious. The high cheekbones and 
sharp eyebrows stood out more than ever, giving him a mean, gaunt sort of look. It was no 
wonder everyone stared – in fact, barely anyone glanced at Remus’s newly scarred face 
because of the distraction. Still, Remus thought, glumly – hair grew back. 

Sirius rubbed his head, still watching his reflection. Peter laughed nervously, 
“You look like Lupin.” 

James nodded, eyes darting between the two of them. 

“Yeah, you do a bit.” 

Sirius looked at Remus, and for the first time since Christmas Eve, Remus saw him 
smile. That Sirius Black smile – nothing could ever ruin that. 

“Oh yeah, I think I see it,” Sirius said, still rubbing his head. He reached out and 
pulled Remus into the mirror’s frame, so that they stood side by side, staring at each other. 
“We could be brothers.” 

Remus laughed too, despite himself. 
Sirius’s real brother was waiting outside Gryffindor common room later that evening. 
He was sitting on the floor with his knees drawn up, staring into space. His hair was still 
long enough to touch his shoulders. His friend, Barty Crouch was leaning against the 
opposite wall, looking bored. He had made a paper aeroplane and was directing it lazily up 
and down the hallway with his wand. Crouch and Regulus were as inseparable as James and 
Sirius; Barty was fair haired and weedy, with a mean streak longer than Snape’s – Remus 
already recognised him by his cruel barking laugh alone. 
Regulus stood up smoothly as the marauders approached. Remus felt inside his pocket 
for his wand, just in case. 
“There you are.” The younger boy said, a tremor of nervousness in his otherwise 
arrogant tone. His eyes kept flicking towards James. Barty’s paper plane began circling 
them all. 
“What d’you want?” Sirius asked. 

“Just seeing if you’re… seeing how you are.” 

“No different from last night.” Sirius shrugged. 

153 

“I didn’t see you at dinner.” 
“Wasn’t at dinner.” Sirius replied, unhelpfully. They’d sent Peter down to the kitchens 
to pinch some sandwiches and sat in one of Remus’s hidden alcoves to eat. Remus was quite 
enjoying this game – avoiding the rest of the students, even the Gryffindor’s. Usually James 
and Sirius would do everything in their power to be noticed, Remus much preferred flying 
under the radar. 

“Can I talk to you?” Regulus addressed his older brother. 
Sirius spread his arms, as if giving Regulus the floor. Regulus rolled his eyes, irritated. 
He didn’t quite have the same mouth as Sirius, Remus noticed. He had a weaker jaw, 
smaller lips. “I mean a​ lone​,” he said, shooting looks at James, Peter and Remus. 
"No." Sirius said, simply. Regulus sighed. He clearly knew Sirius too well to try and 
argue. 
Barty Crouch's paper plane began spinning faster over their heads. Peter was 
watching it's progress anxiously. 

"Fine." Regulus said, folding his arms. "I just wanted to let you know that mother and 
father asked me and Narcissa to watch you. And report back to them." 

Sirius made a noise of disgust. Regulus continued, not dropping his gaze, "And we're 
not going to. We're both staying out of it, ok?" 

"How noble of you." Sirius replied. James grinned. Regulus rolled his eyes again. 

"I'm telling you I'm ​not your enemy​, idiot. Nor is Narcissa. You can do whatever you 
like, that's between you and our parents." 

"Good." 

"Good." 

The two brothers continued to stare each other down. If it had been James, he'd have 
broken into a smile, slapped Sirius on the shoulder and all would be forgotten. But Regulus 
was clearly just as pig-headed as Sirius, and couldn't tell when to end a fight. 

"Ow!" Peter let out a yelp like a whipped puppy, crouching down suddenly. Barty 
Crouch had obviously grown bored of the family drama and had decided to dive bomb the 
smallest of the marauders with his sharp paper plane. Crouch was giggling meanly as the 
place backed up and prepared for it's second attack, when James pulled out his own wand, 

"I​ ncendio​." He said, lazily, flicking his wrist in Crouch's direction. The plane, wings 
now alight, went soaring towards the first year boy with frightening speed. Crouch let out a 
cry of anguish, covering his face with his arms as the flaming projectile flew straight for 
him – only to fizzle out mid-air, crumbling in a pile of ash and cinders inches from 
Crouch's nose. 

"Let's go." Regulus muttered to his friend, who had gone pale and was staring at James 
warily. They both set off back towards the dungeons. “Narcissa said to tell you good luck 
for Saturday, Potter.” Regulus threw over his shoulder as they turned a corner. 

James ignored him, following Sirius through the portrait hole. Once they were all in 
the common room Remus asked, 

“What’s Saturday?” 

154 

“Quidditch match. Gryffindor v Slytherin.” James replied, promptly. 
Ah. Remus was no good at keeping up with the quidditch schedule – he only went to 
Gryffindor matches, and the last one had fallen on the day after a full moon, so he’d missed 
it anyway. He tended to tune out when the others started talking about tactics and league 
tables, burying his nose deeper in his book. 
“I hope you thrash ‘em, mate.” Sirius growled, throwing himself into the nearest 
armchair. 
"Plan to." James said, jovially, sitting on the arm of the chair. "S'long as she doesn't 
get the snitch too early – and Marlene's the best beater we've had in years, so--" 
James stopped short, realising what he'd said. He looked at Sirius. Sirius groaned and 
stood up. 
"I'm going to bed." He said. 

* * * 
Saturday 13t​ h​ January 1973 

It had snowed overnight. If Hogwarts had been any normal school, Remus thought to 
himself grumpily, they would have called off the stupid match. But no; instead Gryffindor 
common room was buzzing with excitement, with talk of how these were 'perfect flying 
conditions'. Peter and Remus spent half the morning trying to cast long-lasting warming 
spells on James's kit. Sirius had done one of his early morning vanishing acts, and was 
nowhere to be seen. 

Adil Deshmakh, the Gryffindor team captain, made the team eat together at breakfast, 
rather than with their friends. They all sat there looking pale and tired, eating uniform 
bowls of porridge and fruit (on Deshmakh's orders). James was the only one in a good mood 
– even though they hadn't got the warming spell to work. 

"Where's Sirius?" Lily yawned, as she took a seat next to Remus, biting into a slice of 
heavily buttered toast. 

"Dunno," Remus yawned back, hugging his hot cup of tea as if his life depended on it. 
"Sulking somewhere, probably." Peter said, bitterly. Remus gave him a sharp look. 
"What?!" The blond haired boy frowned, indignantly. "He calls m​ e​ whiny all the time." 
"He'll be here." Remus said, ignoring Peter. "He wants to see us destroy the 
Slytherins." 
Even Lily grinned at this – despite her usual pleas for inter-house unity, today she was 
decked out in red and gold from head to toe, just like everyone else. After breakfast they 
walked out to the quidditch pitch together. The Gryffindor quarter of the pitch was 
bedecked with red and gold flags and streamers, plus four large banners displaying the 
golden Gryffindor lion. Thankfully someone had also cleared the snow from the benches. 
Lily and Peter wanted to get the best seats at the very top of the spectator stands, and 
Remus was already shivering despite wearing two jumpers under his cloak. 
"Cold, Remus?" Lily glanced at him, as he tried to blow hot air into his gloved hands. 
"Just a bit." He replied, sarcastically, too bad tempered to be polite. 

155 

"Here," Lily pulled out her wand and grabbed his wrists, pointing into his palms; 
"C​ alidum Vestimenta​." 

At once, a delightful warmth spread through his hands, to the very tips of his frozen 
fingers. 

"How did you do that?!" He asked, "We've been trying all morning!" 
"I think it's in the annunciation." Lily shrugged. She quickly applied the same spell to 
Remus's cloak, then to Peter's. 
By the time this was done, the two quidditch teams were gathering on the pitch, which 
had been cleared enough for them to make a path from their changing rooms at least. They 
stood in two neat rows – one scarlet, one emerald. Remus could clearly make out a few of 
the players – James's unmistakeable mop of jet black hair, Marlene's fluffy sandy blonde 
ponytail. He could also see Narcissa Black, on the opposing team; tall and willowy, her 
platinum hair woven into two neat braids which reached hallway down her back.  
Still no Sirius, 
"Of course," Peter was blathering to Lily, "We don't actually need to win this one, we 
just need to keep our points up – as long as we finish with at least six goals then we stay at 
the top of the league. Black's a brilliant seeker, but Slytherin overall are pretty poor. 
Especially when you look at James, having him's like having three chasers in one." 
Lily was nodding along politely – people so seldom listened to Peter when it came to 
sport. Remus certainly didn't. He'd attempted to read Sirius' dog-eared copy of ​Quidditch 
through the Ages,​ but nothing in it could help him make sense of the ridiculous points 
system. 
Madam Hooch blew her whistle below them, and the players mounted their brooms, 
squatting ready for kick off. 
Still no Sirius. 
Remus craned his neck, looking around the stands – but even with his excellent 
eyesight, he couldn't spot his friend anywhere. Surely Peter wasn't right – he couldn't be off 
sulking somewhere? They'd thought he was over his rejection from the quidditch team – 
he'd been at every match that year to support James. Just because this particular match was 
against Slytherin... 
Madam Hooch blew her whistle again and released the snitch. The players shot into 
the air like red and green cannonballs. 
Still no Sirius. 
Peter and Lily were on their feet cheering with everyone else, so Remus got up too and 
attempted to look involved in the game. James had possession of the quaffle within seconds 
of being in the air, and had it through the hoop in under a minute. The red crowds exploded 
with triumph, but were quickly overshadowed by a deafening noise like a thunderclap, 
"Rrrrrroooooaaaaar!" 
"What was that?!" Lily stared about, wide eyed, along with everyone else. Even the 
players on the pitch looked startled. Remus looked up and saw that the lions in the 

156 

Gryffindor banners above them appeared to have come to life, and were now prowling back 
and forth across the red material, growling and tossing their heads restlessly. 

"Is that normal?" He asked, pointing. Lily and Peter shook their heads, speechless, as 
the enormous lions roared above them. 

Remus smiled, suddenly. He recognised that magic; playful and a bit scary. "Look!" He 
pointed again. 

At the bottom of the spectator’s stands, nearest the ground, a young Gryffindor in 
bright red robes was also stalking back and forth, waving his wand like a conductor's baton. 
It was undoubtedly Sirius – who else had that over-confident strut? – but he was no longer 
bald, and had instead donned an enormous golden wig, like a lion's mane. Remus thought 
he could even see a gold tail dragging behind from under his robes. 

Once everyone had seen him, the crowds laughed – even Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. 
But Slytherin did not – the green coloured portion of the crowd merely glared at the garish 
show of house pride. 

James was clearly not distracted by the new mascots, but instead encouraged by them 
– which must have been Sirius's intention. He scored at least three more goals – resulting in 
three more ear-splitting roars – while the Slytherins struggled to recover from the surprise. 

"We are Gryffindor!" Sirius was chanting, his voice magically amplified, 

"Mighty Mighty Gryffindor!" The crowd screamed back. 
Once he got used to all of the noise, Remus began to enjoy a quidditch game for the 
first time. James was like a red blur on the pitch, darting this way and that; though the 
other chasers were very good too, managing to keep up with his complicated formations 
and passes. Marlene, bat in hand, was doing a stunning job of not only protecting the 
chasers and seeker, but aiming bludgers at the other team – Narcissa in particular. 
Narcissa Black, however, was in her own league. She had an elegant, smooth flying 
style that Remus recognised from Sirius's attempts to teach him formal flying. She was 
quick and always moving, like water. The Gryffindor seeker was following her movements, 
hoping she would lead him to the snitch, but she kept dodging and making false turns to 
confuse him; twice sending him directly into the path of a bludger. She wasn't showy like 
James – she was efficient and ruthless. 
Gryffindor had a one hundred point lead when Narcissa finally saw the snitch – Remus 
noticed the moment she caught sight of it. Her posture changed; she didn't look away even 
once. She hovered for a few moments, glancing behind her to see where the Gryffindor 
seeker was. He was hanging back, unsure what she was planning. 

At that very moment, Maisy Jackson, one of the Gryffindor chasers, scored another 
goal, bringing Gryffindor's score up to 130 against Slytherin's 20. The Gryffindors went 
wild, and Sirius waved his wand even more enthusiastically. The lions not only roared this 
time, but l​ eapt​ clear through the banners, out into the winter air, where they became 
strange golden shadows striding across the pitch. The Gryffindor seeker dived to dodge 
them, clearly terrified, though they vanished just above his head. 

"No, you idiot!" Sirius's voice echoed over the cheering. 

157 

It was too late – Narcissa had taken advantage of her opponent's distraction and 
scooped up the snitch. She flew above the crowds, holding it aloft triumphantly. The 
Slytherin crowd finally burst into applause, sending up green and silver sparks, cheering; 

"Black, Black, Black!" 
Of course, this was highly confusing, as the Gryffindors were also chanting, 
"Black, Black, Black!" As Sirius took his bows before the crowd. James swooped down 
to land beside him and ruffled his friend's ridiculous mane, as the crowd now chanted, 
"Pot-ter! Pot-ter! Pot-ter!" 
"Oh well," Peter grinned up at Remus, "We lost, but we're still tied with Ravenclaw in 
the league table – still going through to the final!" 
Remus couldn't care less. 
Afterwards they poured onto the pitch to congratulate their team – Remus and Peter 
both punched Sirius playfully, 
"You never told us!" 
"We could have helped!" 
Sirius just smirked and tossed his glorious golden hair. 
"Sirius!" A thin, cold voice broke through the crowd. They all turned. Narcissa was 
striding towards them, still in her billowing emerald robes, a bright silver medal hanging 
around her neck that made Remus shrink back behind Peter. Sirius stood to face her. She 
gave him an unexpected smirk, "Take off that obscene wig." She said sharply. 
He complied, rubbing his bare head self-consciously. Narcissa pulled out her wand 
with one sweeping motion and tapped his head, "C​ rescere​." 
The marauders, and the crowd of Gryffindor's around them all gasped. Sirius hair 
began to grow, like black water tumbling from his head, until it was back to its usual 
length. 
"What the?!" Sirius grabbed his head. Narcissa grinned, showing rows of pearly teeth, 
"That's for your help in ensuring a Slytherin victory." With that, she turned, silver 
plaits whipping around, and flounced off towards her own team.   
James tugged on Sirius's newly restored tresses. 
"I'm never going to understand your bonkers family, mate." 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

158 

THIRTY-THREE 

Second Year: Discoveries 

 
After the landmark Gryffindor vs. Slytherin game, it felt as though time was speeding 
up for Remus. Part of this was down to the balance having been restored to their dorm 
room. James was once again the hero, Sirius’s rebellious streak was back in full flow, Peter 
was no longer treading on eggshells around either of them, and Remus had no peace and 
quiet at all – though could hardly complain about it. 
As if trying to make up for lost time, James and Sirius tore through the final weeks of 
winter with a renewed zest for pranks and mischief. They spent half of their time under the 
invisibility cloak, casting hexes at unsuspecting students in the halls, raiding the kitchens 
and causing upset in the dining hall. At least three or four nights a week they crept out 
together with Remus’s map to plot the castle – though most of the time they returned with 
armfuls of sweets from Honeyduke’s instead. Peter often tried to tag along, but Remus 
needed all the sleep he could get. 
His January and February full moons were not good. Neither was quite so bad as the 
December moon that had left him so obviously scarred, but neither were at all pleasant. 
Madam Pomfrey was relentless in her quest to find a solution – in January she tried 
vanishing his fingernails (‘​only temporarily, you understand, you’ll have them back in the 
morning’​ ) but it did not stop his claws from growing in once the transformation took hold. 
Remus was somewhat relieved by this, as she’d had plans to vanish his teeth next. 
In February, she tried securing his arms and legs with magical manacles to stop him 
from hurting himself. She was extremely apologetic about these measures – even more so 
when she returned in the morning to find that he had dislocated both shoulders breaking 
free of the shackles. He was too tired to care very much. 
While engaging in less pranks than he had the year before, Remus chose to throw 
himself into his studies. Secretly, Remus hoped to take advantage of Sirius and James’s 
determination n​ ot​ to focus on their schoolwork. He wanted to come top in History of Magic 
again, and knew he had a good chance – not just that; his marks had been getting better 
and better in Transfiguration, Herbology and Astrology too, and he at least had the chance 
to be in the top three. 
Charms and Potions still belonged to Lily Evans, but he wanted to close the gap 
between them as much as possible. As such, he finally overcame his fear of the library, and 
spent almost every free hour he had in there, completing essays and revising. His reading 
had improved a fair bit – he was still slow if he didn’t use the spell, but he found that his 
constant practice helped him recognise the letters much faster than before. 
Lily was often in the library too, and after a few days of nodding politely to each other 
across the desks, Lily gathered up her things and came to sit next to him. They got along 
very well together, either reading quietly or querying each other on various points. 

Inevitably, Lily was the second person after Sirius to discover Remus’s secret. 

“Why do you do that?” She asked, looking at him curiously. 

159 

“Do what?” 
“Every time you open a new book, you put your hand on it and scratch your head with 
your wand.” 
“No I don’t.” Remus put his wand down, guiltily. 
“Yes, you do.” Lily said, calmly, a small smile playing on her lips, “You muttered 
something, too. Was it a spell?” 
“Um.” 
“Oh go on, tell me – is it something to do with the books? Is it how you figure 
everything out quicker than me?!” 
Remus was so pleased by this compliment that he dropped his guard for once. 
“Promise you won’t tell anyone?” 
“Promise.” 
“It’s to help me read. I’m not… I can’t… um… well I find it harder than everyone else. 
Reading the normal way.” 
“Wow! How does it work?!” Her eyes grew wider, as they always did when she was 
excited about something. Remus was surprised – she didn’t seem at all interested to hear 
that he couldn’t read normally. 
“Like this,” he showed her. She copied him, but looked disappointed, 
“It didn’t work.” 
“It’s really hard to do.” He explained, “Took me ages to get it right.” 
“Where did you find out about it? That’s really, really advanced stuff!” 
“I didn’t – Sirius did. I don’t think it’s written down anywhere, it sounded more like he 
bunged a few different spells together. Probably why it’s a bit clunky.” 
“Really?!” If Lily’s eyes got any wider they were in danger of falling out of her head. “I 
knew​ he was cleverer than he acts in lessons! Ooh, that git! Show me again!” 
As well as Lily, Remus often found that he was joined by her friends, Mary and 
Marlene. At first he was unsure about this arrangement – he usually tried to avoid the other 
girls in his year purely out of instinct. Plus, the two M’s were generally to be found giggling 
at the back of the class or fawning over some wizard celebrity in the common room. 
However, he was pleasantly surprised to find that both girls took their studies just as 
seriously as he did – and in fact that their interest in wizard pop stars was hardly different 
from Sirius and James’s obsession with their favourite quidditch teams. 
Mary was particularly nice to talk to – she was muggleborn and from south London; 
her accent made Remus feel strangely at home. She was unpretentious and had a broad 
smile and a loud, infectious laugh. Marlene was slightly quieter, but hysterically funny and 
able to mimic almost anyone in the school – including the teachers. Her McGonagall was 
spectacular; Remus actually cried with laughter. 
The three girls were exceptionally kind to Remus, and he knew this was mostly 
because they thought he was ill. He didn’t mind though, because he was learning plenty of 
interesting things from them. For one, Mary had a spell for covering up blemishes – which 

160 

didn’t ​completely​ vanish his scars, but noticeably reduced their appearance. He’d never even 
thought to look in a beauty magazine for a solution. 

They introduced him to various other girly things – Mary had a crush on Sirius, and 
Marlene on James. Remus thought they were both completely mad and wondered if they’d 
feel the same way if ​they​ had to share a bathroom with Potter and Black. 

In return, Remus helped them with History of Magic, since he was apparently the only 
student in the whole school who actually found Professor Binns interesting. Marlene was 
excellent as Astronomy, and showed him how to plot his constellations using some clever 
mnemonic devices. 

“You’re so nice, Remus,” Mary said, in her usual blunt manner one evening as they 
walked back to the common room together, “Marlene and Lily were proper scared of you in 
first year.” 

“What?!” Remus almost dropped his books in surprise. 
“Mary, don’t be so rude!” Marlene hissed. 
“You w​ ere​ pretty aggressive,” Lily explained, “And James started telling everyone you 
were really rough, and that you were in a gang.” 
Remus snorted with laughter. 
As they entered the common room, he quickly spied Sirius, James and Peter huddled 
in a corner, pouring over a very large, very thick book. Marlene and Mary burst into fits of 
giggles when they saw them, and ran upstairs. Lily shared a knowing look with Remus 
before following them. 
The marauders looked up as their friend approached, and Peter very conspicuously 
covered the book they were reading with some sheets of parchment. 
“Alright lads?” Remus said, craning his neck, “What you doing?” 
“Nothing!” James said, brightly, “Where’ve you been?” 
“In the library,” Sirius stated, before Remus could even open his mouth, “With his f​ an 
club​.” 
Remus smirked, 
“Piss off Black, I know when you’re jealous.” He had elected not to tell his friends that 
Marlene and Mary fancied them. Their egos might not be able to handle much more 
inflating. Anyway, he didn’t want to change the topic, “Seriously, what you hiding there?” 
All three looked at each other guiltily, and Remus felt a sting of hurt. They were all up 
to something without him – he ought to have known. He supposed it was only fair – he had 
refused to take part in any pranks for so long that now they didn’t want to include him at 
all. 
“Your birthday!” Peter suddenly burst out. “It’s coming up.” 
“Yeah,” Remus scratched his head, thrown, “Next week.” 
“We’re planning a surprise!” Peter said, grinning widely, clearly very pleased with 
himself. Remus did not miss James’s look of annoyance, and he knew at once that Peter was 
lying. Fine. If they didn’t want to tell him. 

161 

“Oh, right,” He swallowed, forcing a smile, “Well you’d better not be planning to 
embarrass me like last year.” 

“Oh no, never!” Sirius grinned, standing up, gathering the book to his chest, title still 
hidden, “Are we the sort of friends that would want to ​embarrass​ you, Lupin?” 

“Yeah, you are.” Remus nodded, slowly, narrowing his eyes, “No singing. No big 
parties. Nothing that’s going to—“ 

“Get you into trouble, ​we know​,” James finished, standing up too. “Hey, why don’t we 
invite your new friends, eh? Do us good to mix with the fairer sex, don’t you think?” 

“Right,” Sirius tossed his hair, “More like you want a chance to get Evans on her own.” 
“How dare you.” James replied, cheeks slightly pinker than usual. 

* * * 
“So if you’re ​not​ in a gang,” Mary mused, a few days later. They were checking each 
other’s Herbology essays and Mary was the fastest reader so she’d already finished. 
“Where’d you get all the cuts and bruises?” 
“Pet rabbit,” Remus replied, still reading Marlene’s essay, “Vicious temper.” 
Lily grinned at him. 
“Oh yeah? I thought you lived in a home?” 
“I do.” He said, coolly, “We’re allowed pets.” That was somewhat true – there had been 
goldfish, for a time, until the tank got overturned by one of the older boys in a rage. 
“Oh, in a children’s home?” Mary looked up, “Are you muggleborn too?” 
“No,” Marlene said, promptly, “’Lupin’s’ a wizard name – your dad?” She looked at 
him for confirmation. He nodded, unsettled. 
“Yeah, how did you know?” 
“I saw the name on a trophy.” 
“A… trophy?” 
“Yeah. Can’t remember what for, I think it was outside the Ravenclaw common room.” 
“Oh, right.” He had never so much as glanced at any of the trophies except for the 
Quidditch Cup, which James stopped to pay homage to at least once a week. He was 
suddenly filled with an irrepressible urge to run all the way to the Ravenclaw corridor, and 
dropped the essay he was reading. 
Lily was watching him. 
“Go, Remus,” she said softly, taking the parchment from him. The other two girls were 
looking at him too, somewhat pityingly. They nodded. He practically leapt up. 
He wasn’t sure exactly what he’d expected. He could barely read for a few moments; he 
was so out of breath from sprinting up three flights of stairs. The case was mahogany and 
glass, regularly polished by Filch – or the house elves, he supposed. It was stuffed full of 
trophies and awards for a hundred different achievements. W​ izard Chess Champion, 
Triwizard Tournament Victor, Droobles Best Bubble Gum Blowing Finalist.​  

162 

And there it was. A huge, golden statuette depicting a wizard raising his wand in a 
silly looking stance, as if he was serving a tennis ball. L​ yall Lupin, Hogwarts Duelling 
Champion, 1946.​  

He stared at it for a very long time, reading and re-reading. He tried to think logically. 
This only confirmed things he already knew. His father was in Ravenclaw – McGonagall 
had told him that in his first year. He was good at duelling – exceptionally good, apparently. 
Both Slughorn and drunken old Darius had told him that. Really, all this did was confirm 
that his father had been at Hogwarts – he had ​belonged​ at Hogwarts. Had probably touched 
that very trophy. Remus pressed his fingers against the glass as if he could break through 
and grasp it. 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

163 

THIRTY-FOUR 

Second Year: Thirteen 

 
Saturday 10​th​ March 1973 

The marauders could not have been happier to discover that Remus’s birthday 
occurred on a Saturday that year. This, in their opinion, opened up the day to all sorts of 
excitement that would simply not be possible on a weekday. 

As the day approached, Remus tried to ignore their teasing and heavy handed hints 
about what lay in store. He didn’t mind what they did, he trusted them well enough – they 
could be relied upon to make a fool of themselves, but they had so far never made him the 
butt of the joke. James had been receiving strange lumpy packages bound up in brown 
paper for the past week and Remus’s only hope was that they weren’t presents for him – 
he’d never be able to return the favour. 

Remus thought a lot about being thirteen – specifically being a thirteen-year-old 
wizard with a furry little problem. The discovery of the Ravenclaw trophy cabinet had done 
some very strange things to Remus’s internal dialogue. He’d always thought he had a pretty 
good idea of who he was – a care home kid, poor, a bit weedy, angry, bad, scarred, thick 
when it came to school stuff, but clever enough when it counted. Coming to Hogwarts had 
wrought some changes, of course – maybe he wasn’t that thick, even if he was still sure of 
everything else. 

His father had been ​really​ clever. He was in Ravenclaw, after all. The sorting hat had 
considered Remus for Ravenclaw too, but changed its mind. That hadn’t meant a great deal 
to him at the time, but now he wondered and wondered about it. What if he’d been sorted 
into Ravenclaw? Would he know more, now about his father? About who he was? 

What if his father had not killed himself? What if he had never been bitten at all? 
‘What if’ was a dangerous game. 

As he fell asleep on the night before his birthday, Remus slipped into a dream he had 
not had in a very long time. 

He is lying in a bed in a small, pale blue room. It is summer and the sash window is wide open; 
curtains billowing. The window is huge – big enough for a grown man to get through. Remus is very 
small and very frightened. 

There is someone in the room with him, and they are going to hurt him. It’s a monster – his 
mother promised they weren’t real, but oh! Oh, she’s a liar, a horrid liar, because there is a monster, 
and it’s crossing the room now; it’s coming towards him and it will eat him up! 

“Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf?” 

He scrunches his eyes shut and ducks under the covers and trembles and sobs, 
Then… then there is nothing – nothing solid, nothing real. He is in pain, there is so much blood 
and so many tears and an awful lot of noise. He just wants to sleep. Another man looms over him, 
tall and slender and worried. 

“Daddy.” 

164 

“LUMOS MAXIMA!” 
Remus started awake with a jolt, nearly crying out. The dorm room had filled with 
bright, unnatural light, it sliced through his bed curtains, making him squint. He just had 
time to wipe the tears from his cheeks before Sirius and James ripped back the heavy 
drapes, chanting, 
“Happy Birthday, Lupin!” 
“It’s still dark out, you pricks.” He squinted, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. He tried 
to will his heart to stop pounding so hard. 
“It is ​precisely​ one minute past midnight,” Sirius said, “and therefore officially your 
thirteenth birthday.” 
“Where’s Pete?” Remus climbed out of bed, stepping into the room. They had 
decorated it haphazardly with streamers which he was sure usually decked out the 
quidditch pitch on match days, and strings of fairy lights left over from Christmas.   
“On a mission.” James said, eyes twinkling. “C’mon, up and dressed.” 
“Where are we going?” 
“Nowhere,” Sirius replied, breezily, “But you’ll want to be properly attired for when 
your guests arrive.” 
“My guests?!” 
“Of course,” Sirius grinned, “We tried to keep it marauders only, but so many people 
wanted to celebrate with you, see.” 
Remus couldn’t tell if Sirius was being sarcastic, so he chose not to respond, instead 
pulling on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt that looked clean enough. By the time 
he had dressed, there was a sharp rap at the door, 
“Come in!” James boomed, cheerfully. Sirius saw Remus’s wince and explained, 
“It’s ok, we put a silencing spell on the room.” 
Remus frowned, 
“So… whoever’s on the other side of that door can’t actually hear us?” 
James clapped his hand to his forehead, 
“We are complete idiots.” He groaned at Sirius, pulling open the door. 
Peter stood outside, looking very pleased and very pink, surrounded by Lily, Marlene 
and Mary. Remus gaped as they entered the room, all smiling widely and clearly thrilled 
that they had surprised him. They were all clutching cards and small packages too. 
“I didn’t think girls were allowed in here?” 
“The lovely Mary tested it for us last week – nothing bad seems to happen,” James 
explained. 
“One day you’ll all read ​Hogwarts: A History​, and I can finally rest.” Sirius sighed, 
shaking his head tragically.   
James had begun pulling out packages from under his bed, ripping them open. It 
seemed they had raided Honeyduke’s again – mountains of sweets were unearthed; Bertie 
Bott’s Every Flavour Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Fizzing Whizzbees, Droobles Best Blowing 

165 

Gum, sherbet lemons, cauldron cakes – not to mention the haul Peter had brought up from 
the kitchen; ham sandwiches, egg mayonnaise, coronation chicken, cheese and pickle, 
packets of Remus’s favourite flavour crisps– salt and vinegar – scotch eggs, sausage rolls, 
pork pies, cheese and pineapple sticks, plus some perfunctory fruit. 

Sirius, meanwhile, was laying blankets over the floorboards and scattering a few plush 
velvet cushions, 

“Lupin,” he said with a wide smile, “Welcome to your midnight feast!” 

“Happy birthday, Remus!” The girls chanted, as one. 
They all sat down together, and Sirius settled a record onto his player – he’d eventually 
opened his gifts from Andromeda – as requested, he received two Bowie albums: ​Hunky 
Dory​ and ​The Man Who Sold the World​. 
“Sit next to me, Sirius,” Mary said, quickly, earning a reproachful look from Marlene. 
Sirius shrugged and acquiesced, but leaned over to hand Remus a package, 

“Open this first!” 

It was long and cylindrical, very light and badly wrapped. 

“You didn’t have to get me anything.” Remus mumbled, untwisting the ends. 
“A poster?” Lily furrowed her brow, watching as Remus unfurled the thick glossy 
paper. It was a huge, A2 print of David Bowie in black and white, wearing a spangly silver 
costume and giving a slightly jerky high kick. 
“I got Andromeda to send it to me at Christmas,” Sirius grinned, unable to contain 
himself, “But I enchanted it to move myself!” 

“Wow!” Remus smiled back, sincerely, “Thanks! It’s amazing.” 
The girls had all got him packets of sweets and cakes – and Lily gave him a book on 
Potions. He looked at her sceptically and she grinned, 

“Can’t keep giving Severus a reason to lord it over you.” 
“Please do not mention Snivellus’s name on this most sacred occasion.” James said 
with mock horror. Lily rolled her eyes and returned to her jam tart, conspicuously ignoring 
him. James seemed hardly to notice, just cleared his throat and looked at Remus, his dark 
eyes full of wickedness, “My present is coming later… once we’ve all stuffed ourselves to 
bursting.” 

“Oh Merlin, Potter,” Marlene giggled, “What have you got planned?” 

He would not tell. 
Remus had to admit that he was enjoying himself – he had hoped that James and 
Sirius would respect his wishes and keep the celebrations to marauders only, but inviting 
the girls wasn’t too bad. He knew them all quite well, now, and actually quite enjoyed their 
company. Mary could give Sirius a run for his money when it came to barefaced cheek and, 
as Remus had predicted, Marlene’s impressions of the faculty members had the marauders 
in stitches – Peter even had to go and change his shirt after snorting pumpkin juice down 
himself. 
“Starting to see why Remus’s been abandoning us for you lot.” James said at about one 
thirty, wiping tears of laughter from the corners of his eyes. 

166 

“Yeah, you’re not bad, for girls,” Sirius winked at Mary, who scoffed and gave him a 
playful shove. 

“Yeah, it’s got nothing to do with me wanting to get my homework done.” Remus 
replied dryly, wondering if he could manage another chocolate frog. 

“Oh, how times have changed,” Sirius said, haughtily. 
“You’ll all be laughing on the other sides of your faces when Remus beats you all in 
our exams.” Lily quipped. 
“Pah!” James got up, stretching elaborately as if about to perform some great feat, 
“Exams! We marauders have ​higher​ concerns. My dear Mr Black, Mr Pettigrew,” he made a 
sweeping gesture towards the dorm window, “Shall we?” 
“By George!” Sirius stood, abruptly, “Is it time?!” 
James closed his eyes solemnly and nodded, 
“Indeed it is.” 
“Then make haste!” Peter cried, standing up too. 
The girls shot nervous glances at each other and then Remus, who could only shrug to 
show them he had no idea. Sirius, Peter and James went to the window, flinging it open. 
They were fidgeting from excitement, lack of sleep and too much sugar, and kept 
snickering like naughty children. 
“Come on!” Peter beckoned the others, hurriedly, “You’ll want to see!” 
James had produced a collection of bright red objects which looked like a cross 
between space rockets and stick of dynamite. His arms were full, and so were Sirius’s. 
“Are those…” Marlene scrunched up her nose, “Not Dr Filibuster’s?!” 
James just gave a maniacal smile. 
“Oh no!” Lily said, “We’re not supposed to! You’ll wake up the whole castle!” 
“Get lost if you don’t like it, Evans,” Sirius snapped, handing a few rockets to Peter, 
“You promised not to spoil anything.” 
“Remus,” Lily turned to him, “Tell them, they’ll listen to you!” 
“No they won’t,” Remus replied, “Anyway, I want to see! I’ve never seem wizard 
fireworks.” 
“You’re in for a treat!” Sirius winked. 
“How many do you need?!” Mary stared, sounding impressed. 
“Thirteen, obviously.” 
“You’re all going to get in so much trouble…” 
“Oh, stop being such a goody goody, Lil!” Marlene threw her arm around the redhead. 
“We won’t let any of you girls get in trouble.” James said, sincerely, his glasses 
slipping down his nose as he struggled to keep control of his cargo. “Don’t worry.” 
“I’m not worried.” Lily folded her arms defiantly. “I just think you’re all being—” 
“Ooops!” 
*B​ ANG​* 

167 

“Peter!” 
They all leaned out of the window to see the rocket Peter had dropped tumbling down 
towards to ground in a torrent of green and gold sparks. 
“Sorry…” Peter looked sheepish. Sirius laughed, 
“No, great work – now we’ve started we may as well continue, eh?” and he began to 
hurl his own fireworks out of the window, clear into the night air. James and Peter quickly 
followed suit and soon enough even Lily had forgotten to be annoyed as they all stared in 
awe at the spectacular display lighting up the starry sky. 
The fireworks went on much longer than muggle ones, some bursting ten or twelve 
times before fizzling out. They changed colours from red to green to purple to orange, 
twisting and curling in various shapes, eventually spelling out ‘HAPPY THIRTEENTH 
BIRTHDAY REMU’. 
Sirius sighed, irritated at that, 
“Knew it was too many letters.” 
As well as the dazzling light display, the fireworks were satisfactorily noisy, so much 
so that Remus could already hear the other Gryffindor’s in the tower opening their windows 
to see whether the castle was under attack. He was sure he heard whoever was in the room 
above theirs mutter, 
“Them bloody marauders are at it again.” 
Inevitably, someone began hammering at their door, and McGonagall’s shrill voice 
could be heard on the other side, 
“Potter! Black! Don’t think I don’t know you’re behind this, OPEN THIS DOOR!” 
“Oh shit!” James grimaced, “Better get under the beds, ladies…” 
Once they had all been thoroughly reprimanded, promised two months of detention 
and letters home to all of their parents, McGonagall (who was a sight to behold in her red 
tartan nightie) left them and Marlene, Lily and Mary reluctantly returned to their own 
dormitory. It was two o’clock in the morning by then, and the boys decided it was finally 
time for bed. 
“Happy birthday, Remus,” Peter called out, followed by a loud yawn. 
Remus smiled to himself in the dark, his cheeks almost aching. 
“Yeah,” Sirius yawned back, “Happy birthday, Remu.” 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

168 

THIRTY-FIVE 

Second Year: What’s in a Name? 

 
Monday 19t​ h​ March 1973 

“I have a spot of good news,” Madam Pomfrey smiled warmly, “I didn’t want to 
mention it in case we couldn’t sort things out in time – but you’ll be seeing me over the 
summer.” 

For a moment, Remus dared hope that this meant he was not going back to St 
Edmund’s, but the medi-witch continued, “Mrs Orwell, your matron at the children’s home, 
has kindly permitted me to apparate onto the grounds at dawn following both full moons 
this summer.” She smiled widely. 

Ah well. It was better than nothing. He smiled back weakly, 
“Great!” He croaked. His arms and legs felt heavy as lead, he could barely raise his 
head to drink the potion she was offering him. 
It was about four o’clock in the afternoon and Remus had missed his lessons – he’d 
been asleep most of the day. Sleep was still the only remedy that seemed to really work.  
“I told Dumbledore I would do it with or without his permission – I couldn’t live with 
myself if you arrived here in September in the same state you did last year.” 
“I could stay at a wizard’s house this summer, that would be even safer,” Remus tried, 
“My friend James—“ 
“I’m sorry, dear,” Madam Pomfrey shook her head, “It’s just not safe enough. The 
Potters did get in touch, but we need to preserve your anonymity for as long as we can – I 
know it isn’t much fun for you, but it’s better you stay with muggles.” 
Remus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It would only be two months, and the 
summer was still ages away. S​ tay positive, stay positive. 
A sudden clattering noise at the end of the ward jerked Remus out of his meditative 
chant. Madam Pomfrey frowned and turned to look around Remus’s bed curtain. 
“Mr Pettigrew!” She shouted, “What do you think you are doing?!” 
“S-s-sorry Madam Pomfrey – we were just…” 
“Pick those bedpans up right now and put them back in the cupboard! And you can 
wipe that smirk off your face, Mr Black, give him a hand.” 
“Hiya, Remu,” James peeked around the curtain, “Sorry about all the noise.” 
Remus grinned, trying to sit up. 
“S’ok.” 
“Lie down!” Madam Pomfey chastised, “You’ve had three broken bones you silly boy.” 
“I’m feeling much better!” 
*CRASH* 
“MR PETTIGREW, WHAT DID I SAY?!” Madam Pomfrey disappeared, looking very 
cross. 

169 

James slumped into the chair beside Remus’s bed. 
“Ready to go?” He asked, casually. Remus could always count on James not to treat 
him like an invalid. 
“If she’ll let me,” Remus nodded to the curtain Pomfrey had vanished behind. “How 
was the match?” 
“Smashed it,” James nodded enthusiastically, dropping the snitch into Remus’s lap. He 
ran his fingers through his hair as if to regain that feeling of having just touched down. 
“Made one of the Ravenclaw beaters cry.” 
“How nice.” 
“How was… y’know, your night?” 
“Fine.” Remus replied dryly, twisting his mouth. They didn’t often talk about the full 
moons – and Remus was pretty glad about that. He didn’t like the idea of them knowing too 
much. Pain was a personal thing. 
“Three broken bones, did she say?” 
“Yeah. All fixed now though, she’s amazing, only takes one spell. Muggles have to 
wear plaster casts for weeks and weeks.” 
“Weird!” 
“REMU!” Sirius whipped back the curtain, “You’re ALIVE!” He fell dramatically at the 
foot of the bed, “I was convinced she was trying to cover something up, the old bat wouldn’t 
let us come over.” 
“Don’t call her that,” Remus replied, irritably, “And don’t call ​me​ that!” 
“But you wanted a nickname,” Sirius said, sounding affronted as he climbed back to 
his feet. Peter appeared, looking sullen with his hands in his pockets. 
“No I didn’t.” Remus frowned, “When did I ever say th—” 
“Last year.” Sirius said quickly, “Almost exactly a year ago, you said you wouldn’t 
mind being called anything as long as it wasn’t Loony Lupin.” 
“God, you’ve got a memory like an elephant.” Remus rolled his eyes. “Anyway,” he 
lowered his voice, in case Madam Pomfrey was lurking nearby, “The whole point of having 
a nickname was so no one knew who wrote the map. I don’t think ‘Remu’ is going to fool 
anyone.” 
“He’s got a point, there.” James said, wisely, “As much fun as it’s been.” 
“Fair enough,” Sirius heaved a sigh, “But can we call you Remu until we come up with 
something better?” 
“No.” 
“Boring.” Sirius cast around for something else to say, conspicuously avoiding looking 
at Remus’s bandages. “So are we getting out of here or shall I settle down for a rousing 
game of snap?” 
“He’s not going anywhere,” Madam Pomfrey bustled in, “I’m keeping Mr Lupin in for 
observation overnight.” 

170 

“No!” Remus protested, “I’m feeling much better!” He always said that – it wasn’t 
usually true, but he knew he ​would​ start to feel better eventually, and it didn’t much matter 
whether he was in the hospital wing or not. 

“I’m not being deliberately unkind, Remus,” the nurse sighed, “This is for your 
health.” 

“I’ll go straight to bed!” 
“We’ll look after him!” James said, earnestly, standing up. Remus waited to see if that 
worked, James was good with grown-ups, especially witches. He’d even been known to 
soften McGonagall once or twice (though that might have been more to do with his 
quidditch skills). 
Madam Pomfrey was unmoved. 
“I’m sorry, Mr Potter, but no.” 
“Fine.” Peter said, uncharacteristically firmly. “We’ll stay here then.” 
“Yeah.” Sirius and James said, as one. 
“You’ll miss dinner!” Remus said. 
“I’m sure we can arrange something just this once.” Madam Pomfrey said, trying not 
to smile. “All right, boys – but you’re to keep quiet. And get on with your homework, I’ll not 
have you using Mr Lupin here as an excuse for not handing anything in.” 
With a wave of her wand three more chairs appeared out of thin air, along with a long 
pinewood desk, complete with inkwells for their quills. Remus opened his mouth to speak, 
but Madam Pomfrey was apparently psychic – “And no, Remus, no homework for you. Just 
rest.” 
Remus shut his mouth and lay back down. How was he supposed to keep ahead of 
Sirius and James if the woman wouldn’t let him study? 
“Can I read my book?” He asked, meekly. 
“As long as it doesn’t strain your eyes.” 
She left, and the other three boys dutifully pulled out their homework and began 
scribbling. Remus craned his neck to try and see what they were working on – he was all up 
to date with his, but had been doing some extra reading in Charms in an attempt to defeat 
Lily in their upcoming exams. 
“Ah ah ah,” James covered his work with his sleeve, “No looking, Remu, you just rest.” 
“Ugh, call me Loony!” Remus groaned, “​Anything​ but Remu!” 
“But it’s suits you!” Sirius said, over his quill, “Reeeeemuuuuuu.” 
“Stop it or I’ll bite you.” 
“Reeeeemuuuu.” 
“Reeeemuuu!” Peter joined in, all three boys giggling hysterically, but trying not to be 
heard. 
“I hate my name.” Remus covered his face with the book he was reading. It wasn’t fair 
– ​James Potter​ was so reassuringly ordinary; ​Peter Pettigrew w​ as perfectly respectable and 

171 

Sirius​ Bloody ​Black​ was the coolest name ever, whichever way you looked at it. “You might 
as well call me anything you like, I dunno what could be worse.” 

“Loony Remu?” James suggested, helpfully. “Remoony?” 
Sirius could hardly breathe from laughing now. 
“REMOONY!” He snorted, collapsing onto his desk, shoulders shaking. 
“Moony is actually quite good.” Peter suddenly said, very soberly. 
“Eh?” 
“Moony. As a nickname.” 
Remus stared at him, unaccustomed to paying very much attention to anything Peter 
said. He thought about it, rolling the name around in his head. It sounded like Loony, but it 
was nowhere near as horrible. 
“I don’t hate it.” He said, finally. 
“I love it.” James said, “Moony. Suits you.” 
“Won’t people… y’know, catch on?” He worried, chewing his lip. 
“Nah,” Sirius waved a hand, “We’ll tell them it’s after that muggle in The Who.” 
“They’re all muggles in The Who.” Remus replied, “But I don’t play the drums.” 
“You like hitting things.” Sirius shrugged. 
“Thanks.” 
“No problem, Remoony.” 

* * * 
Some hours later, after Madam Pomfrey had brought them all dinner, James had left 
for quidditch practice and Peter for a detention. Sirius had given up on his homework long 
ago and was instead attempting to perfect a tentacle arms jinx on himself. 
Remus was stalwartly ignoring this behaviour – he knew that Sirius was pronouncing 
the incantation all wrong, with the emphasis in the wrong place – but he wasn’t going to 
tell him, because he wasn’t sure exactly why Sirius wanted a tentacle arm so badly, and it 
couldn’t be for any good reason. 
Eventually, bored, Sirius leaned back on his chair, feet propped up on Remus’s bed. 
“What you reading, anyway?” 
“T​ he Epic of Gilgamesh.​ ” Remus supplied, turning the page. He was nearly at the end, 
and his reading spell was waning – if Sirius would just leave him alone for five more 
minutes… 
“What’s it about?” 
“It’s yours!” He said, surprised, “I got it off your shelf!” 
“Oh, one of the muggle ones? I haven’t read many of them, to be honest. They were my 
uncle Alphard’s.” 
“Right.” 
“So?” 
“So what, Black?!” 

172 

“What’s it about?” 
“A man called Gilgamesh.” 
“Ok, you have to agree that’s a worse name than Remus Lupin.” 
Remus chuckled, 
“Yeah, all right. It could always be worse.” 
“So tell me about this Goulash bloke.” 
“Gilgamesh. He was a king. A long time ago.” 
“See, now I’m hooked, that’s how all good stories start.” Sirius cupped his head in his 
hands, staring at Remus as if he was a professor teaching Sirius’s favourite subject. 
“No, you’re just putting off your Astrology essay.” 
“Pfft, I’ll copy James’s.” Sirius waved a casual hand, “Tell me more, oh keeper of 
knowledge. I’ve read to y​ ou​ plenty of times.” 
Remus sighed, putting down the book. There was no getting out of it when Sirius was 
in this sort of a mood. 
“Gilgamesh was a king.” 
“Yes, a long time ago, you’ve established that.” 
“Look, shut up or piss off.” 
“Ok, ok!” Sirius held up his hands in surrender, “Carry on.” 
“So he was a king, but not a good one. He wasn’t fully human – he was two thirds god, 
so he was stronger than everyone else and his people were frightened of him. He was 
dangerous. So, his people prayed – um… that’s when you ask the gods for help – and the 
gods sent another man to help control Gilgamesh.” 
“Was he even stronger?” 
“No, but he was part animal,” 
“So this beast-man killed Gilgamesh?” 
“No. They fought each other for a really long time, but Gilgamesh still won. He didn’t 
kill Enkidu, though – he… he sort of recognised that they were equals. And they become 
friends – best friends. They have all these adventures together, fighting other monsters and 
stuff. It’s cool.” 
“I want to know more about the beast-man.” 
“Enkidu. He was master of the animals, and he was happy living in the wild, but then 
after he’s sent to control Gilgamesh he can’t ever go back to nature. So he never really 
belongs.” 
“But he had his friend, right?” 
“Yeah, but… well I don’t want to spoil the ending for you.” 
“S’ok, I hardly ever read muggle stuff.” 
“You’re missing so much!” Remus exclaimed, “Well, ok then. Enkidu dies.” 
“What?!” 
“Yeah, it’s sort of sad, he was my favourite character too.” 

173 

“But why?” 
“To teach Gilgamesh about death, I think. Before Enkidu he was too arrogant to 
believe anything could hurt him. But after he loses him, he realises that he’s not the master 
of everything. No one can control death.” 
“That’s a really depressing thought, Moony.” 
Remus shrugged. It had all seemed pretty straightforward to him.   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

174 

THIRTY-SIX 
Second Year: Love & Marriage 

 
Still don’t know what I was waiting for  
And my time was running wild   
A million dead end streets - and  
Every time I thought I’d got it made  
It seemed the taste was not so sweet  
So I turned myself to face me  
But I’ve never caught a glimpse  
Of how the others must see the faker  
I’m much too fast to take that test.  
 
Friday 20th April 1972  

Remus loved H​ unky Dory​ more than anything. It was by turns bright and happy – then 
dark and introspective. He felt that David Bowie must have some super human insight into 
his soul. Even if he didn’t always fully understand the lyrics, he felt as though they 
somehow made sense.   

He hummed the tune to C​ hanges​ quietly under his breath as he walked up and down 
the dark library shelves, his wand lit for a better look. He really ought to be catching up on 
Potions – but Lily had offered to help him over the weekend and he’d already been revising 
Transfiguration all day. It had taken that long to turn an old top hat into a rabbit and back 
again.   

Remus finally found the shelf he was looking for – T​ he British Wizards Guide to Nuptial 
Laws 1700 – 1950.​ He hoped that would be recent enough. It was huge, and he had to get up 
on a step ladder to reach it. Stretching, Remus just about had purchase on the dusty old 
leather cover, and was about to pull it down towards him, when another hand reached up 
and grabbed his wrist.  

Yelping, Remus yanked his hand back and almost toppled off the stool, coming face to 
face with Narcissa Black.   

“Ugh, it’s y​ ou​.” She said, distastefully. She was a head taller than him, so they came 
about level as long as he kept his balance. She did not release his hand, “Give me that.”  

“No, I had it first.” He replied, still trying to pull away. She had an iron grip.  
“Go away, little boy. What could you possibly want this for?” She gave him a hard 
shove and he toppled backwards, landing painfully on his backside.   
Narcissa smiled down at him, victorious, holding the heavy tome. He scowled,  
“What do y​ ou​ want it for?”  

175 

“That’s none of your business,” she breezed, tossing her pale hair out of her eyes in a 
manner eerily similar to Sirius. She turned and began to walk away, between the gloomy 
stacks. Remus scrambled to his feet,  

“Wait,” He said, trying to keep his voice down so that Madam Pince didn’t throw him 
out again, “Oi, Narcissa, wait!” He tugged her robes.  

She spun around with furious eyes, her wand raised. Remus instinctively grabbed his 
own wand just in time. They both stood like statues for a few moments. He knew that she 
had cursed James and Sirius on several occasions, and that the whole Black family knew all 
sorts of dark magic. But at the same time, Remus had never cursed a girl before, and it felt 
wrong.   

“I just wanted to know,” he said, carefully, choosing his words, “If it was anything to 
do with you and Sirius… the engagement thing.”  

She lowered her wand, slowly, regarding him with suspicious interest.  
“So he’s told you all about that, has he?” She raised an eyebrow – which was still as 
inky black as her natural hair colour. “Yes, little boy, that’s exactly what I need it for. You 
don’t think I w​ ant​ to be married to that whiny little blood-traitor, do you?”  
Remus just shrugged. The truth was, it hadn’t actually occurred to him how Narcissa 
felt about any of it. He’d been so focussed on helping Sirius that he hadn’t considered 
whether anyone else might be working on exactly the same problem. Narcissa sighed 
impatiently,   
“Well I don’t. And I’m not expecting my brat of a cousin to come up with a solution 
any time soon, so here I am.”  
She didn’t sound angry anymore, just bitter. Now that he was closer to her, Remus 
could see that she had dark rings under her eyes.   
“I​ ​ want to find a solution.” He said, tilting his chin up to meet her gaze, wishing he 
wasn’t shorter than her. “I’ve been trying, anyway.”  
“Ha.” Narcissa laughed humourlessly, “A second year?! And what have you come up 
with, hm?" She tapped her black patent heel on the dark floorboards.   
"Well..." Remus swallowed, "Not much – nothing good enough yet. Unless... well, 
unless y​ ou​ were already married."  
"I've thought of that." Narcissa snapped, "I'm not of age yet, I can't. I'd have eloped 
with Lucius the moment they proposed this ridiculous engagement, but I'm not seventeen 
until October."  
"Right," Remus nodded, surprised to hear this, "And... it can't wait, because of the 
betrothal ceremony this summer, right?"  
"Correct." She was looking at him with slightly less venom, now, as if she found the 
conversation amusing rather than irritating.   
"But, I was thinking – what actually i​ s​ the ceremony?" He asked, feeling braver, "What 
do you and Sirius have to do?"  

176 

"Oh, the usual Black family rubbish," she replied, "A banquet, astrological charts, 
probably a commemorative portrait of the two of us. Mother still has Bella's hanging up in 
the dining room."  

The thought of a portrait depicting thirteen year old Sirius with his sixteen year old 
cousin was repulsive to Remus. Narcissa didn't sound like she relished the idea either. 
"This is all his fault, you know." She said, "Acting as if he's some special case. If he had 
simply followed tradition like the rest of us, toed the line until he was old enough to get 
out..." She trailed off, her eyes bright with angry tears, which she wiped away quickly, 
"Anyway, it doesn't matter. I'm marrying Lucius and that's all there is to it. Thank 
goodness he's stood by me through all of this, anyone else would have walked away."   

Remus didn't like to comment. What did he know about relationships? He'd never 
even seen one close up. They were silent for a few minutes, while Narcissa composed 
herself. Once she had, she gave a sniff and looked at Remus again, "I shan't curse you." She 
said, magnanimously, "But I'm warning you – I've had just about enough of people 
meddling with my future. So just keep your nose out from now on."  

With that, she turned and left, leaving Remus with plenty to think about.  

* * *  

Monday 30th April 1973 
"Moony, what are all of these books for?" James asked, as he tripped over a pile Remus 

had carefully stacked near the dorm entrance – they were useless and he'd been planning to 
take them back that afternoon.   

"Just some research." He replied, not looking up from his current book, "Where've you 
been?"  

"Plotting." Sirius followed James him, stepping over the scattered books which his 
friend was trying to clear up. Remus raised an eyebrow,  

"Plotting? Map or mischief?"  
"Bit of both," Sirius grinned, throwing himself onto Remus's bed. He picked up a 
book,  
"W​ izard Wedding Rituals?​ !" He laughed, "Who you marrying, Moony? Not Evans, 
James'll have to challenge you to a duel."  
"I do NOT fancy Evans." James spat, from where he squatted on the floor. "​Magical 
Marriages.​ " He read, picking up the final book and placing it on top of the pile, "Seriously, 
Remus, what's all this about?"  

Remus sighed, putting down the book and rubbing his eyes,  

"I'm trying to help you," he kicked Sirius gently with his foot. "Someone's got to get 
you out of this stupid engagement."  

"Oi!" Sirius scowled, "I'm doing everything I can."  

"What are you doing?"  
"Haven't I had more detentions than anyone else this year? I must get a howler a 
week. And my lions, don't forget my lions at the quidditch match."  

Remus stared at him, dumbfounded.  

177 

"How is any of that supposed to help?"  
"I'm proving that I'm not the marrying type."  
"No offence, mate," James put in, coming to sit on the bed with them, "But I don't 
think your lot really care that you're not the marrying type."  
"Exactly," Remus nodded, "You're the heir. You have to marry another pureblood. And 
the Black family have a long history of inter marriage, even your parents are cousins."  
"Er... how do you know?" Sirius looked uncomfortable.  
"I've been reading." Remus gestured at all of the books. "There's loads of stuff in the 
library on your family. One of the oldest wizarding houses in Britain, traced all the way 
back to the middle ages, where the family seat was in Inverness in Scotland--"  
"I know all of this." Sirius waved a hand.  
"Yeah, but did you know that you aren't the first Black who wanted to get out of a 
marriage?"  
"Well obviously Andromeda – though that was more that she ​did​ want to marry, only 
Ted was the wrong sort..."  
"Not just her – Lyra Black defied the family's wishes in 1901 to marry into the Crabbe 
family, and Delphinus Black was supposed to marry his niece in 1750 but left her at the 
altar and married Fidelia Bulstrode. And, your Uncle Alphard never married either, though 
there's no explanation--"  
"Yeah, we're not supposed to talk about him," Sirius replied, edgily, "I've heard 
mother ranting about him and I'm pretty sure he was a queer."  
There was an awkward silence.   
"My dad knew Alphard," James said, "Said he was an all right bloke."  
"He was always nice to me," Sirius shrugged, "Left me his money and everything, 
made sure no one else can touch it until I'm of age. Makes my parents furious, you know, 
that he didn't return all his cash to the family vault, so I have to give him credit for that, 
even if he was... well, whatever."  
Remus's throat was very dry, and he cleared it, wanting to move on,  
"So anyway, it just goes to show that you can get out of this sort of thing. Only 
problem is, I can't find any good details on how they all got away."  
"Don't bother," Sirius said, gloomily, "Even if you did find out – none of them had my 
mother to contend with. You know what she's like. She's probably going to make us take 
the unbreakable vow."  
"She wouldn't!" James said, aghast.  
"She'd do anything." Sirius nodded.   
Remus chewed his lip, thoughtfully. He didn't know what the unbreakable vow was – 
it sounded like dark magic. From what he'd already read about the House of Black, he knew 
that the library's restricted section would probably have to be his next stop. He'd have to 
borrow James's cloak for that, and go at night. No matter. He refused to be deterred from 
this. He owed it to Sirius.  

178 

Hadn't Remus once told Sirius that his own problem was hopeless, inescapable? And 
hadn't Sirius worked tirelessly, learnt to perform complicated, NEWT standard magic, just 
to help him? This was no different. He just had to work harder. Knowing that Narcissa was 
also working on the problem was strangely comforting. Remus knew from her curses that 
she must be a very accomplished and clever witch, and there was no doubt in his mind that 
she usually got her way.   

I'm marrying Lucius and that's all there is to it​. There had to be something in that. He 
remembered Flitwick telling them that love - natural, everyday, human love - was one of the 
most powerful types of magic. While Remus didn't personally feel that anything about 
Lucius and Narcissa's coupling was natural, exactly, he knew that it was a lot more 
powerful than family honour. It had to be.  

 
(Song: Changes - David Bowie) 

 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

179 

THIRTY-SEVEN 

Second Year: Exams 

 

May 1973  
Exam season began at the worst possible time for Remus, around mid May, right when 

the full moon was due. The moon itself fell on a Friday, which meant he was able to attend 
his Potions test that morning – but he lost the whole weekend to sleep, when he would 
really have preferred to revise. More than that, the moon had thrown his magic off 
completely.   

He'd thought it was happening less in his second year, but as their exams got closer – 
whether it was nerves or the lengthening days – Remus found his magic growing stronger, 
wilder and harder to control. The slightest wand movement caused the most fantastic 
results, and sometimes he'd barely finished speaking the incantation before light was 
bursting from its tip, making his fingers tingle with shock.  

James had taken to saying 'c​alm down, Moony!'​ at least three or four times a day, as 
Remus attempted to practice various basic transfigurative spells and charms which 
inevitably went too far. He'd thought that just doing simple incantations might help him 
gain some control, but this was apparently not the case, as he smashed the dorm room 
window a third time attempting to levitate his gobstone set.  

"​Reparo.​ " Sirius muttered, glancing over the top of his Astronomy revision. The 
window fixed itself at once. Remus sighed.  

"You really need to relax, mate," James grinned, "We don't have any practical exams 
until next week anyway."  

"I'm so behind, though!" Remus grumbled, collecting up his gobstones and putting 
them back in their box.   

"If you're behind then what am I?!" Peter wailed from the floor, where he had five 
texts spread out in front of him, all different subjects. "I know I'm going to fail 
Transfiguration, my rabbit hasn't changed at all this year, and I ​know​ she's going to make 
us do something really hard."  

"At least you're good at Potions." Remus shot back. "And Herbology, I can't ever 
remember which leaves mean what..."  

"You beat me on our last Herbology quiz," James reminded him, "And you've got us all 
by the bollocks when it comes to History of Magic, I've been copying your homework all 
year."  

"But ​you're​ best at Transfigur-" Remus started, but was interrupted by a loud thump as 
Sirius threw his Astronomy book to the floor.  

"Will you all shut up?! I'm trying to revise!" He yelled, standing up. "Like a bunch of 
old women nattering. I'm going to the library." He pulled his satchel over his shoulder and 
stormed out of the room.  

They sat in silence for a little while. Peter, gnawing his lip, looked on the verge of 
tears. James sighed,  

180 

"Ignore him, he's just in a mood because he has to go home soon. Not that I blame 
him." He added, quickly. "Parents like that, and all."  

"S'pose," Remus shrugged, though he didn't think it was a good enough excuse, really. 
It wasn't as if he, Remus, was much looking forward to the summer holidays either. All 
right, fine, he didn't have to marry his cousin, or attend weird stuffy banquets – but nor did 
Sirius have to be locked up in a cell once a month, or hide from much older, rougher boys 
whose greatest delight was shoving your head in the bogs.   

"He's not staying with you again, then, James?" Peter asked, nervously – probably 
quite looking forward to a Sirius-free summer, as it meant he would have James all to 
himself.   

"Nah," James replied, sounding much less cheerful at the prospect, "He's got an open 
invite, obviously – you all have," he eyed Remus, "But we don't reckon it'll happen after the 
fiasco at Christmas. He thinks he'll be locked up completely until the betrothal ceremony."  

Remus felt a pang of guilt in his chest. He still hadn't come up with a workable 
solution to that, and between revision and the full moon he hadn't even thought about it 
properly in two weeks. Judging by Narcissa's behaviour in the halls – hexing anyone who so 
much as looked at her sideways – she had not fared much better.   

"Well if he keeps acting the way he does he'll lose more than his hair next time," Peter 
said, primly, sorting through his notes.  

"What'd you mean?" James frowned, sitting up, "Saying it's all his fault?!"  

"No!" Peter looked alarmed at James's tone, "N​ o​, I just mean... well, you know the 
other day he packed all those Gryffindor house banners in his trunk. He wants to put them 
up in his bedroom to annoy his parents. Stuff like that is exactly what gets him into 
trouble."  

"Nothing wrong with a bit of house pride." James sniffed defensively, though he shot a 
nervous glance at Sirius's trunk.   

Remus didn't get involved. Personally, he agreed with Peter and Narcissa – Sirius was 
his own worst enemy, a lot of the time. For someone so intelligent and magically gifted, he 
completely lacked subtlety, or even forethought. If he didn't have to mouth off at every 
opportunity, then maybe he wouldn't have found himself engaged at the age of thirteen. 
Remus knew better than anyone the importance of keeping a low profile, especially when 
you were different from everyone around you.   

James, who was more like Sirius than Peter or Remus, wholeheartedly disagreed. In 
his mind, the most important thing was to always fight back. But if everything was a battle, 
then inevitably ​someone​ had to lose. And until he was of age, that was going to be Sirius 
every time.   

* * *  
"Excellent, Mr Potter!" McGonagall gushed uncharacteristically, as James transformed 
his rabbits into a perfect pair of fine red velvet slippers with a fur trim.   
Remus took a deep breath, steadying himself for his own attempt. It was a week and a 
half since the full moon and he was finally back in control, though his nerves still got the 

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better of him sometimes. He watched Sirius lazily wave his wand over his own rabbits, and 
they too transfigured into a lovely pair of black wool booties.   

Peter's slippers still had ears and a tail even after three attempts, and left droppings on 
the desk. When Remus took his turn, he closed his eyes first, feeling light headed, before 
finally uttering the incantation.   

The slippers were not as neat as James and Sirius's, but they were wearable, and at 
least no longer had any leporine features, even if they stayed a dull brown colour. At least 
he knew he had done his very best on the theory paper – in fact on all of his theory papers. 
He was satisfied that he'd remembered everything he needed to remember when it came to 
his best subjects, and that he hadn't done too hideously in Potions, Herbology or 
Astronomy.   

At the end of the Transfiguration exam, McGonagall returned all of the rabbits to 
their original state and sent them hopping back into their hutch at the back of the room 
ready for the next exam. She then began to hand out sheets of parchment that looked like 
blank timetables.  

"You will be aware," she said, very formally, "that in your third year you may choose a 
minimum of two additional subjects to take up to ordinary wizarding level. Here are your 
application sheets. If you will please think very carefully, reviewing each subject's merits, 
then complete the form and return it to my office no later than the last day of term."  

The class began to murmur excitedly, and Remus looked down at his form, and the 
subjects listed there, with great trepidation.   

As they all filed out of the room, Peter immediately began to badger James to find out 
which subjects he would be taking – so that he could select the exact same ones.   

"Muggle Studies." Sirius said, as they headed outside into the summer sunshine, 
"Definitely going to take Muggle Studies."   

Remus rolled his eyes. There was no surprise there – if any subject was going to win 
the general disapproval of the Black family, then there it was.   

"D'you think Evans will take that?" James scratched his chin. Sirius grinned,  
"Doubt it, mate, she's muggle born. You could impress her with your knowledge, 
though."  

"Yeah... yeah, maybe..." James looked down, thoughtfully.   

"Are you going to take that, then, James?" Peter asked, anxiously, "Do you think it'll 
be difficult? I s'pose we could just ask Remus for help... are you taking it, Moony?"  

"Nah," Remus shook his head, "What's the point? You lot do it, though, then maybe 
you can stop asking me stuff."  

He secretly wished that there was a 'Wizarding Studies' subject he could take, so he 
didn't have to feel quite so out of his depth all of the time. But, he supposed, that was the 
arrogance of wizards.   

"Divination... that's like fortune telling, right?" James sat down on the grass, throwing 
off his robes. Sirius followed suit, rolling up his shirt sleeves.   

"I think so. Crystal balls and tea leaves."  

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"Sounds like a right doss. Let's do that."  
All three of them scribbled onto their papers. Remus did not. He didn't like the idea of 
knowing the future – whatever he had coming to him, he was sure it couldn't be good. He 
tapped his temple with his wand quickly and whispered,   
"L​ ectiuncula Magna,​ " beginning to read through his options. "Arithmancy," he 
murmured, "Is that like arithmetic?"   
"Numbers, anyway," Sirius replied, "It's supposed to be really difficult."  
"Care of Magical Creatures... dunno about that," James snorted, "Have you seen the 
teacher? He's got more scars than Moony."  
"Oi," Remus kicked his ankle. Care of Magical Creatures had actually sounded quite 
interesting to him. After all, he sort of ​was​ a magical creature himself.   
"I think I'll do Arithmancy, if you are," Sirius said, still reading his paper.  
"Will it really be difficult?" Peter worried.  
"We'll help you, Pete, don't worry." James soothed. "Anyway, there are better things 
about third year than extra homework – Hogsmeade!"  
"You go to Honeyduke's three times a week." Remus replied, mulling over the 
possibility of Ancient Runes.  
"Yeah, but Zonko's!"  
Remus grinned at him. He was actually pretty excited about the Hogsmeade trips – 
he'd never been to any of the protected wizarding areas other than Hogwarts, and he was 
sick of hearing about how great Diagon Alley was. He sighed and lay back, looking up at 
the clouds. He would think about his third year subjects later, there was no hurry. For now, 
he wanted to enjoy the end of exams, and revel in the thought that they still had almost a 
full month before school ended.   
"Oi oi, Evans!" James sat up, suddenly.   
Remus sighed, inwardly. James had been acting more and more of an idiot where Lily 
was concerned, ever since the midnight feast.   
"I'm not a dog, Potter," her voice echoed across the grounds, "Don't yell at me like 
one."  
"Hi Sirius," Mary's voice now. Remus sat up, blinking.  
Marlene gave a shy wave, which he returned.   
"All right, MacDonald," Sirius nodded, casually sweeping his hair behind one ear. 
He'd started doing that whenever there were girls around. Remus hated it.   
All three girls had ice creams, which looked like an excellent idea considering the 
unseasonably warm weather. Lily had even charmed a Chinese fan to follow her around, 
creating a cool breeze wherever the three girls went.  
"Give us a lick, then," James winked at her, lewdly. Marlene turned beetroot red and 
dissolved into giggles, but Lily remained calm, arching one red eyebrow.  
"You do look like you need cooling off. ​Aguamente!​ "  

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With that, she aimed her wand at the marauders and sprayed them all with icy cold 
water. Remus leapt out of the way, but she wasn't trying to get him anyway. James and 
Sirius got the worst of it, and shouted in dismay as their hair and shirts were drenched. 
Mary, Marlene and Lily cackled with glee.   

"What'd you do that for?" Sirius growled, pulling his dripping hair apart to glare at 
them, looking like a drowned rat.   

"Thought you lot liked practical jokes?" Lily winked at him, before turning away and 
walking towards the lake.  

"Complete nightmare, that one." Sirius groaned, trying a hot air charm on his hair.   
"That's my future wife you're taking about," James replied, dreamily, watching her go. 
His glasses had steamed up comically. "Oh stop being so dramatic, you'll dry out in half an 
hour in this heat."  
"Where'd you think they got the ice cream?" Peter asked, distantly.   
Remus smiled, lying back again. Never mind going home, or betrothals or new 
subjects. For now, everything was just as it should be.  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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